


Ruins Of Us

by Dreamer_88



Category: Shefani, The Voice (US) RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-06-09 01:51:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 110,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15256797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamer_88/pseuds/Dreamer_88
Summary: My head is filled with ruins.Most of them are built with you.Now the dust no longer moves.Don’t disturb the ghost of you.





	1. Chapter 1

It’s been 23 years since she physically laid eyes on him. Even though she can’t deny that chord between them had never truly disappeared, she moved on from him and the heartbreak he brought. She’d always blamed young love for the way they parted; they were young and idiotic for believing anything they created back then would stand tall years later.

Deep down, she knows she’ll never be able to duplicate what she had _with_ him with anyone else. It’s that ache that’s been haunting her all these years. Loving him had been easy, learning how to unlove him had been almost unbearable—she’d come to realize later it was nothing short of impossible.But she did continue living her life; she found love again, married the guy and never stopped chasing that fairytale she envisioned for herself as a little girl. Finding Gavin had opened her heart up again, but the deceit and emotional blackmail had quickly turned her happily ever after into nightmare; her divorce leaving a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. Love has never proved itself to go her way—leaving her heart bruised and often scattered on the floor.

Being face to face with _him_ after all these years, has her scrambling up the pieces she’d just put back into place.

His hair was shorter than she remembered it, hints of grey accompanying his curls. His mesmerizing deep blue eyes still had the same effect on her like they did back in their youth and his facial features had slightly hardened, but in a gracious way. He looked obviously older and his edges were rougher, but he still is everything she’s attracted to.

After a few moments of sincere confusion on his face, his smile etched back into his face and she could do nothing but blush once it did. He had motioned for her softly and without thinking she found herself walking into his arms; his body warm and inviting as he hugged her close to his body.

She comes into this restaurant regularly enough to know he’s not a regular. Couldn’t even be, cause as far as she knows he never left California. She’d moved to New York shortly after meeting Gavin; his work bringing him over here a lot, makingthem both decide to move. It seemed like the perfect thing to do—she needed a change of scenery and it was a perfect opportunity for her to once and for all leave everything behind Blake had tainted for her there.

Now what the hell was he doing _here_?

She’s not sure when or how it happened, but she finds herself moving with him towards the lounge area and sitting down, the fake leather crunching beneath his weight as he tugs of his coat. Her eyes are subtly taking him in, noting all the changes and similarities. They both explore each other silently, before he lifts his finger to motion the waitress by the bar. It’s too early for the dinner rush, but too late for lunch so the woman responds quickly.

Gwen studies his mouth as he orders a Brooklyn Larger, his voice sounding raspier, lower than she remembers. He motions to Gwen after the waitress has taken his order, but she’s too deep in thought to notice. He whistles lowly in that way he used to get her attention back in high school and her mind reels; not understanding how someone so ingrained in her history, could’ve vanished so completely.

Momentarily snapped out of her trance, she manages to order some orange juice for herself; there’s no reason for her to add alcohol to her already scattered mind. After the waitress makes her way back to the bar, he sits back and scratches his jaw underneath her gaze, a picture so familiar she feels the ache all the way down her throat.

“You look absolutely divine.” Is the first thing that leaves his lips. “Refreshed.”

The compliment hits her sideways, the way he says it makes it sound like his absence in her life somehow helped with that. “You were always beautiful, but damnit Gwen.”

She wants to say something, but she’s still stuck on so many questions playing around in her head: Why did he leave? Was it at least hard for him? How many times had _his_ hand hovered over her name in his phone?

“Thank you.” She whispers in a breath. When she tries for a steadier voice, it comes out desert dry. “What are you doing here?”

“I moved.” 

He says it so casually, it’s a stark contrast to her reaction. Her mouth opens to say something, but she’s stuck on a staggering breath.

“My responsibilities left me tied there.” He clarifies. “But my responsibilities cleared, so I left. Moved out here.”

“To New York?” The confusion prominent in her voice.

“It seemed like a place worth coming to.”

She wants to ask why, wants to ask him if it could possibly have something to do with her living here, but she also doesn’t want the pain of possibly being let down.

When the waitress comes back with their drinks, the conversation halts for a moment. She watches Blake accept the beverages with a gracious smile and she nearly chuckles at the girl’s reaction; he’s always had this appeal to women—his energy and demeanour infectious. She’s once again taken back to that place where she’s 17 and only cared about running somewhere far away with her boyfriend, completely and utterly mesmerized by everything this man in front of her stood for. Both had their demons, but together they seemed to outrun them for quite an impressive period; Blake was a few years older and supported her when she cut ties with her parents, he would drive them around for hours and would end up in their favorite diner most of the time. The place was popular under high school kids, but since Blake’s parents used to be friends with the owner, they were usually secure of a spot. They’d spent hours there talking and eating before he drove them to their favorite spot—usually to make out—before dropping her off at their friend’s place.

She suddenly feels anger rise at the memories, because it wasn’t perfect but it was them and these memories now don’t do anything but intensify her pain, even after all these years.

“I can’t just sit here and have drinks with you for old times’ sake.”

She must’ve sounded as angry as she feels because she watches him sit back and bite his lip apologetically, one hand scrubbing against his stubble. He makes a move to speak, but catches himself and he looks almost out of character.

“You left without a word.” She whispers softer this time. “Just like that.”

He nods his head then, his voice sounding like he had no fight left. “You’re right.”

His admission does nothing to ease her anger, her breath hitching at his words.

“That’s it? You break my heart, don’t talk to me for twenty something years and that’s all you say to me?” She makes a move to stand up, but his gentle hand on her arm stops her.

“Please sit down, Gwen.” He looks at her pleadingly, his eyes portray the guilt he hasn’t yet verbalized and it pulls at her heartstrings regardless of her personal feelings. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but just a few minutes. Please.”

Not much seems to have changed, cause she’s still unable to deny him much of anything. Sitting down once again, they stare each other quietly until the years seem to fall away. Her heart trips against her ribcage but her gaze remains steady: she can’t give him more than what she’s willing to give. 

“I never meant to leave you like that, Gwen.” Sadness found its way across his face for the first time since they sat down. “I found forever in these six years with you.” 

Tears are burning in her eyes at his words and she can do nothing to prevent them from falling. She knew when she met him at 16 that she wanted to marry him and he destroyed all possibility when he left without a word when she was 22.

“I don’t understand.” She says brokenly. “Why did you leave?”

He shakes his head like he’s physically unable to tell her.

“You were living at a friend’s house in the worst side of town, hiding from your parents. I obviously lost my way for a hot second—we weren’t okay.”

She’s trying desperately to piece it together but fails miserably. “So you just up and left?”

He stares at her intently, like he isn’t sure what to do with her, and her stomach braces for a fight because sometimes that’s the only way she can bear to remember him.

“It’s not why I left.” He says softly. “I was just pointing out how the odds were always stacked against us.”

“You’re deflecting! Why aren’t you telling me truth? Why did you leave?” All her questions come out at a rapid succession and she exhales a heavy weighted breath.

His hand moves through his hair like he used to do when he got frustrated and he looks at her full of sympathy and something else she can’t quite place.

“I can’t tell you that yet, Gwen. _Not like this._ ” Comes his soft answer.

“Then I can’t stay here.” She replies just as determined.

He looks at her in a way only he can, but she doesn’t falter—only a slim waver in her façade. She wonders if he’s catching it, like the tiniest crack in a smooth glass, seemingly unseen but when put under pressure could shatter into pieces.

“Give me a few hours with you.”

Her eyes widen, not sure if she’s heard him right.

“W-what?”

His eyes meet her confused expression as she finally starts to falter under his gaze. “Take from me what I took from you all these years. Let me spend some time etching apologies onto your skin, while you take comfort in mine. I owe you an explanation, I owe you _everything_. Can you trust me when I tell you I’ll work on giving you both?”

She wants to fight him. Tell him he’s an asshole for coming back into her life like this and having the audacity to ask what he just did. She wants to tell him she’s over him and is happy with someone else. Tell him that what he’s asking for is completely off limits.

Unfortunately for her, none of these things are what she really wants to do.

“ If you think I can take from you what you took from me in just one night, you’ve got another thing coming.” 

Pain was dripping from his handsome features; she wished his presence didn’t still have this effect on her but she can’t think about anything else but him. He was still able to fully consume her after all these years.

“It doesn’t have to be just one night...”

“Blake....” His name left her mouth in a broken sigh.

“I never meant to hurt you, Gwen.”

She believes him. She never meant for him to be an ex-boyfriend either; the word alone is enough to get her choked up. In her dreams, they used to be married, then came the babies... Now he is just an ex who broke her heart in her early twenties and she’s supposed to be okay with that. 

But she knows damn well he’s not just an ex-boyfriend. He’s her first love, the one who got away and no one has ever  been able to compete with him since. They had something special— something that was different than anything else she’s ever felt and she’ll never understand how that just managed to evaporate as quickly and relentlessly as it did.

“ _Gwen_....”

If he paid any attention, he could’ve sensed the moment her defences crumbled and she gave in— the truth hiding behind her eyes before she’d even said a word with her mouth. 

She reaches behind her for her jacket that’s hung over the lounge-chair and addresses him with minimal words, but with her intentions clear as ever.

“Let’s get out of here.”

*

“Where’s this from?” She asks softly as her index finger follows the outline of a scar on his lower chest. One she never noticed when they were younger.

“Where’s _what_ from?” He asks slightly dazed, as his eyes follow her soft finger until recognition hits. “Oh that? I think that’s from the one time I ran straight into a barbed wire fence as a kid.”

Her eyebrows lift as an amused grin grows on her face. “You think that’s it?”

He chuckles as he catches his hand in his, lifting her finger of his scar and kissing her knuckles. “I was a bit of a wild-child.” 

Trying to focus on his words, she couldn’t deny the tingling in her body at Blake’s soft touches. Every simple gesture of affection sent a wave of butterflies coursing through her veins, almost like they were locked in a cage deep inside her and only he knows how to unlock them with his words and gentle touch.

She lowers her head on his chest, her hand finding its way to his neck when he releases her from his grasp. “Trust me, I know you were a handful.” 

“Nothing worse than I am now.”

She laughs at that, because God only knows he’s still a handful, but he’s also lying because the person he was then wouldn’t be able to hold her like he is now.

“I hope that wasn’t meant to help your case.”

He leans into her personal space until her back is firmly plastered against the matrass, his body hovering only inches above hers, the expression on his face one of love and adoration—and it shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

“What about you?”, he asks. “You still don’t have any scars?”

The question silences her for a moment: does she have scars? She’s tempted to say yes—she has a bunch of psychological scars; her divorce left a bunch in its wake, running away from home at sixteen left her with an ache for love that no one could ever fill, leaving her with deep scars that will never truly heal and now _him_. Being here with him is like keeping an old would open, not allowing it to heal and grow into scar tissue, but she knows it inevitably will somewhere in the future.

“No not really.” Her hands wander from her chest almost completely down to her hips, Blake’s gaze fully locked on the route they take on her body. “I managed to keep myself clean from any physical marks.”

He bites his lip and his eyes turn darker in that way that sets her whole body on fire for him.

“You drive me absolutely crazy, woman.” He says, his voice hoarse with desire.

Blake’s hands trail over her chest, before he dips down and licks the place his finger just traced. She tries to keep her breathing under control but she knows it’s a lost cause; his love intoxicating to the point of inevitable surrender, feeling nothing short of a soul uniting.

“Again?” She breathes lowly as she figures out his intention, surprised he’s ready to go again so quickly.

He nips at her skin, making her ache and long for him, shattering her control with his tongue and teeth—enough to drive her up the wall.

He hums. “Something tells me you don’t mind...”

“Didn’t you say something about making up for lost time?” She hisses frustratingly, but it comes out more like a desperate whine. “Stop talking.”

She can’t get used to the feeling of his lips latching onto her skin and sucking marks into her pale flesh, his body always pressing down as hers bucked up, showing her he’s always here to keep her steady, to ground her. He takes his time with her always, making sure to get her gasping and whimpering before he takes her. Then when he finally does, it’s nothing but the urgency of his breathing in her ear, his hands holding her face so they can keep eye contact, sweet nothing’s being pressed against her temple as his rhythm increases and he forces her to keep up. Her movements falter as he presses her hips down and makes her ride her orgasm out, before he comes with his eyes shut and his hiccupping body landing softly on top of hers. It shouldn’t be this easy for him to draw her pleasure out of her, nor should it be so easy for her to get addicted to the feeling, but she knows there’s never been a choice when it came to him. Their relationship is purely an instinct—an unstoppable force that at some point, will take them both down.


	2. Chapter 2

When the early hours of the morning gently awake her from her sleep, there’s a fleeting moment of confusion at the warmth next to her and the heaviness that’s draped across her stomach. Blake’s face is the first thing she’s met with as she blinks her eyes open, and his handsome, sleepy features fill her with a surge of grief and joy.

Seconds pass, where her brain is purely taking him in, struggling to comprehend that this isn’t one of her forbidden fantasies—this is real. Her brain can’t seem to formulate an objective thought, all she knows is that if she doesn’t touch him right now, she might actually explode. Hesitant fingers make its way through his bed-hair, her hands sliding up his chest hard enough to feel his heartbeat, but gentle enough to not wake him.

So many years have passed, so much time has been wasted and it’s a damn near laughable idea that they could somehow get it back. So much has happened in the time they’ve spent apart; she’s not even sure she’s the same person she was when he had her.

Blake had been a miracle that came into her life when everything was falling apart. Gwen’s parents divorced at an early age and when her dad left the house he’d left them both. Her mother harboured resentment towards her, which caused her to leave home at sixteen, and to her heartbreak, she was met with least resistence. Meeting Blake that year saved her; his family treated her like their own, Behati became such a good friend to them both—she ended up being her room-mate for over 5 years.

Blake was different than other guys his age; he wanted to be songwriter and dedicated all his free time to perfecting his craft and _her_.

But none of that is the same anymore; Gwen’s life is once again falling apart, but this time he can’t just sweep in and safe her. She’s back on speaking terms with her mother and has even spent a few weeks there after the divorce happened. She hasn’t seen Behati since she and Blake parted ways, making it clear that she was always just _his_ friend, extending her courtesies to Gwen whilst she was still a part of his life. 23 years have erased a whole life they once had together—and she suddenly feels crazy for letting herself get dragged into one passionate night with her former lover.

Blake’s hand tightens his grip on her stomach and he turns on his side so his face is resting on her shoulder. The movement is so sudden she doesn’t even have time to disguise her reaction to him; her skin covering with goosebumps as he softly breathes against her bare skin. 

“Hmmm, is this real life?” His low morning voice speaks softly against her shoulder.

She inhales sharply, wanting desperately to believe in some sort of magical ending for them, but she knows they just crossed a line they never should’ve even considered in the first place.

“Good morning.”

He’s still half awake, but that doesn’t stop him from detecting the regret in her voice. If she wasn’t still so angry at him, she would’ve felt bad for the way she felt him tense up beside her. He rests his head on his hand, his elbow pushing into the matrass.

“Already, huh.”

She looks at him confused, not understanding what he means. “Already, what?” 

“You already regret this. How long have you even been up?”

He doesn’t ask, his words come out as confident statements and she does nothing to ease over them—cause he’s right. 

Her voice is steady as a rock, but she looks like she was about to burst into tears. “It only took a minute.”

She knows it’s a harsh thing to say and she feels cowardly for not meeting his gaze when she says it. In that moment, the anger protected her from feeling all the pain she was bound to feel in a second.

“I didn’t—I didn’t move here expecting to run into you. I didn’t move here to do…. _this_. ”

She doesn’t know whether she believes him or not, but she comes to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter.

“But you _did_ find me.” She says matter-of-factly. “And you didn’t waste any time.”

She looks back at him just in time to catch his eyes grow wide, a flash of darkness colouring his features.

“I didn’t force you to do anything, Gwen. You wanted this just as much as I did.”

“I don’t know what the hell I want, Blake. I’m confused, you came back into my life after twenty-three years, excuse me for not knowing how to feel about it.”

Tension grew high between them as she could visibly see him take a few deep breathes, trying hard not to say the wrong thing.

She thinks she finally understands why her relationships never worked out; love should be free so the need doesn’t wrap around your own nature and changes love into something it should never be. Love isn’t possession, but instead it’s the wind beneath your wings, pushing you to be better. She thought she _had_ Blake, she thought she _had_ her ex-husband, but at the end of the day they both left her empty-handed.

But at least Blake’s love was real. She regrets spending so much time on the need to have him, instead of using his love to better herself.

“I’m sorry.” Blake’s voice sounds rough to her ears, no matter how quietly he speaks. “If you weren’t ready and I didn’t pay enough attention to notice that, I’m sorry, Gwen.”

One thing she knows for sure hasn’t changed is Blake’s stubbornness, so his genuine apology momentarily throws her off; not expecting him to agree with her previous accusations. 

“You said your responsibilities cleared out in LA, so you moved here. What did you mean with that?”

She decides to change the subject completely, realizing that the thing she needs most is not an apology, but answers—an explanation. Since she’s not about to get an answer to her most prominent question, she goes for the second-best thing.

“I’ve been writing for artist in LA for years, I kind of hit a wall. Figured a change of scenery would do me good, and well, they say nothing inspires a person more than these New York City streets do.”

“Looks like you’ve really made something of yourself.” She wishes the words didn’t come out so painfully rough, but she’s drowning in bitterness all the sudden.

He chuckles. “Well, Adam started his own label. As much as I hate to admit it, the guy has an ear for talent. I’ve been able to hitch along for the ride a bit, write for these kids.”

Adam and Blake had always been two peas in a pod, their friendship overcoming every obstacle, even when the odds were stacked against them. She’s not surprised to hear they’re still just as close.

“He’s still with Bee?”

“Yeah.” He says gently, his arm caressing hers. “They’ve been together ever since high school. They broke up for a few months after you left though.”

It seemed like every one from her former life managed to keep it together after she left, everyone stayed in contact, no one was stuck wishing for a life they had a taste of, before abruptly being cut off from it.

“And you were fine leaving them? I assume they’re still in L.A.”

“They won’t leave that place ever.” His eyes get a certain joy in them when thinking back of his two friends and she loves it—even when it drives her mad with envy. “I’ll fly back as much as I can, they understood I needed a different kind of vibe.”

She swallows roughly. “So what is your plan now? Write a bunch of songs here and move back there when you’ve got enough?”

His face covers with a layer of confusion before the truth dawns on him, genuine surprise colouring her features when his thumb swipes away some moisture underneath her eyes.

“I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you, Gwen.”

She inhales a shaky breath, her chest feeling like it’s being ripped apart. “Are you leaving again?”

He shakes his head swiftly. “I’m not leaving.”

She’s not sure if he means her or New York, but it doesn’t even matter. He’s told her that before and she still went 23 years without seeing him.

“I took you home last night cause I wanted to, I don’t blame you for any of this, but this was a mistake.”

“Gwen…”

“If you really care for me still, if you’ve _ever_ cared for me at all, you don’t make this harder for me than it already is.”

She can see him clench his jaw, his eyes portraying a kind of pain and hurt she hasn’t seen from him yet—her heart getting introduced to all kinds of different heartbreaks at the age of forty-five.

“Are you asking me to leave or asking me to leave you for good?” There was a hitch in his voice.

“I just need some time alone to make sense of things.”

“Can I leave my number so you can at least call me if you ever feel like it again?”

She wipes at the slowly dripping tears falling down her cheeks, ignoring the sting in her throat when she speaks. “I can’t make you any promises.”

“If you can’t, then I won’t ask that from you.”

She nods softly, her heart nearly combusting when he smiles at her.

She’s left with a crumbled up note with his number on it and a dent in her matrass from where he spent the night, when he leaves her apartment. She knows one of these days, she’ll probably cave and call him up, but for now she needs to focus on the sharp pains in her chest and overwhelming thoughts in her mind that still secretly hope for a happy ending with him.

*

She’s been here for a little over ten minutes—the anticipation both maddening and oddly comforting, these minutes before facing him a bit easier with the time to mentally prepare herself, unlike last time, when he just barged in that cafeteria, back into her life.

Her glass hovers just below her mouth, when she watches him enter the crowded bar. It becomes clear that no amount of mental preparation would take care of the pounding in her chest, or clamming of her hands. She waits for all the memories to slam into her once again, like it did before, but her chest doesn’t contract with painful flashbacks this time.

He spots her at the bar quick enough, fastening his pace a little bit to get to her. When he’s finally there, his eyes seem to observe her whole body for a few moments until a familiar smile creeps onto his lips.

Her fingers interweave protectively around her glass as she softly welcomes him, and he stops at the seat next to her, momentarily debating whether or not to greet her physically. When her eyes lower to her drink, he takes the hint and sits down without any further gesture.

“I’m glad you called.”

She closes her eyes at the sound of his voice, ever so tempting. “Sorry it took so long.”

It had been nearly a month and a half since she ran into him again and desperately took him home. When she called last night, she wasn’t even sure if he’d pick up. She wasn’t even sure he’d still be here.

“You said you needed some time, I don’t think I can really complain about 40 days, after leaving you in the dark all these years.”

She’s surprised to hear him refer to it as “leaving her in the dark”, for the first time acknowledging the fact she doesn’t have any answers without needing to pry it out of him—she’s maybe even more surprised at the fact he remembered the exact amount of days it’s been since he’s last seen her.

_Maybe she wasn’t the only one who kept count.  _

“Let’s not talk about that right now.” She says calmly, the surprise written all over Blake’s face at her words. “That’s now why I asked to meet you here.”

His curiosity seems peaked, his hand motioning for the bartender as he orders the same beverage Gwen’s sipping on.

“Why _did_ you ask me here?”

Swirling the ice-cube around in her drink, she bites her lip softly.

“If you’re gonna be here, and we’ll continue to talk, I think we should get to know each other again. We’ve gone a long time without seeing each other—I’m not even the same person I was back then.”

Recognition hits at her idea, but she can tell he’s also a bit cynical. “Gwen, I _know_ you.”

“You _knew_ me.” She corrected. “I’ve had a whole life after you left, so have you, we don’t know the least bit about each other anymore.”

Looking at him in the gloomy light their surrounding provides, he makes for an impeccable yet mysterious sight. She wishes it wouldn’t hurt so much to look at him, but at the same time wouldn’t trade how he can still make her feel, for the world.

“We can’t just continue where we left off. It’s not realistic.”

His blue eyes look at her so deeply, she feels the air getting thicker—almost impossible to inhale. 

“You’re right.” His gaze casts down onto the bar top, away from her face, his voice sounding more pained than anything.

She pauses and sighs. “Since all of this is your fault, I think you should start this off.”

He glances back up at her, his lips forming a soft smile as he chuckles. She can’t help but lower her head in quiet amusement, feeling good about knowing she can still mess with him in the name of light banter. 

“My life really hasn’t been all that crazy.” He starts while looking at her. “Adam and I got this thing started, we’ve been pretty wrapped up in it ever since. Writing, playing, occasionally scouting talent at local gigs—it’s not all too flashy, but it’s me. That’s all I’ve ever asked for.”

Hearing him describe his life in a few sentences, she can picture it completely. He’s always been a simple kind of guy—in the best way. He never valued the big, flashy things that everyone else chased after, he wanted music and love to rule his life and she feels like he found it.

“Ever gotten married?”

The question is out before she can stop herself, her throat suddenly drying up; she’s not sure she just asked a question she necessarily wants an answer to.

Blake seems to relish in the awkwardness she creates for herself, before he chuckles lightly. 

“I did actually.” His fingers play with the rim of his glass, before tearing them away completely. “Lasted all of ten years, but in the end, don’t have much to show for it.”

Even though his word sound amazingly bitter, his voice surprisingly enough doesn’t quite match. If anything, there’s relief dripping from his words.

“What happened?” She asks quietly.

He cocks his head like he’s challenging her. “Are you sure you want to know?”

She takes another sip of her drink, anything to not have to face him for a second. She’s beginning to realize that this idea of hers might be more dangerous than she thought it out to be. It’s obvious she still loves him—after all these years, that’s the only thing that hasn’t changed.

“It’s part of your story, right?”

He nods his head once and shrugs.

“I had to figure out not everyone wants the same things. I was happy with how my life was at the time, she wanted more.”

She silently hates to admit that she can relate to that a little. She used to never understand why he would settle for _just_ writing, always being in the shadows of someone else. It wasn’t until she finally started to chase her own dreams, that she realized how little all of that mattered when you’re doing what you were put on this Earth to do.

“We just ignored it for a while, until I couldn’t take it anymore—I wanted to make things right, _compromise_.” The change of tone in his voice is prominent and daunting, the darkness of his memories etching its way into his words. “Turns out, it was already too late.”

She blinks and shakes her head softly.

“Is it ever too late?”

Her words are both hopeful and tragic and Blake seems to read her like the prettiest novel, so easy and so confident. He holds her gaze for a moment, before addressing her.

“When you come home from work to find your wife fucking one of your best friends, I think it’s safe to say it’s too late for any compromising.”

Her brown eyes fill with liquid as he knocks the wind out of her. This can’t be real, she wishes there for once wouldn’t be anything relatable to his story, to his being, she just wants to hear him out without being reminded of how much she gets him. How much she will _always_ get him.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, unable to formulate a more adequate response.

He just smiles gently. “Things happen, I’m not torn up about it anymore.”

She wishes she could say the same.

“How about you?” He asks suddenly. “You ever get married?”

She prepared herself for the question, but her voice still comes out apprehensively.

“I met Gavin a little after we broke up. I decided to move out here with him, got engaged pretty quickly, I just didn’t want to waste any time figuring this was probably meant to happen; I was supposed to go through that heartbreak of us to get to him.”

He bites his lip before taking another sip of the liquid swirling in his glass. “But you’re not wearing a ring anymore, so what happened?”

“We were married for twenty years.” She says almost defensively.

Blake stays quiet, but she can tell he’s biting his tongue. She beats him to it, not letting him ask himself.

“He cheated, a bunch of times. I couldn’t figure out why this was happening, how I could get it wrong _again_. I stayed for years, just praying things would get better…”

“But they didn’t.” Blake cuts in.

She sighs. “They didn’t. Not by a long shot.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Me too.” 

For the first time since she’s laid eyes on him again, she feels that ease that used to be there between them; that feeling of wanting to talk to him for hours, because she wouldn’t find any judgement or pity, just authenticity and compassion.

She can’t let herself feel it for too long.

“My life is a mess. I’m trying to get my mind right after feeling trapped for so long, while keeping it together enough to keep my company running, you shouldn’t even want to be around me.”

His eyebrows raise, eyes widening. “You have your own company?”

“Fashion line.” She explains. “I’ve always dreamed about it, when I moved to New York I realized I had no excuse left to not at least try and go for it.”

His smile is so wide she feels like she could drown in it.

“I know you’ve always dreamed of it, I never thought you’d actually do it. I’m so happy for you, Gwen.”

His words sound so genuine, his happiness for her real and sincere.

“It’s the one thing I got right.”

She watches him grimace and wants to say something, but he cuts her off. “Let me cook you some dinner tomorrow night, show you my new place, talk some more in a quieter area.”

Gwen looks away abruptly, biting her lip as she slowly looks at him again. 

“ _Blake_ ….”

“We’ll take it easy. Just two friends getting to know each other again, no expectations whatsoever.”

She lets out a shaky breath, feeling the excitement and nerves rolling off her in waves, the rapid beating of her heart fluttering in her chest. This was never just about getting to know him again; she wants to be around him—she has never been able to shake him off completely and now he’s back in her life, she’s just reminded of how badly she’d sucked at it all these years.

She nods softly then, gripping her glass so tight she’s afraid it might burst.

“Alright, but we can’t— “

“Fuck.’

Her breath hitches at the blunt finishing of her statement. “I was going to say ‘make love’, but yeah, definitely not. We can’t do anything friends wouldn’t do.”

He nods. “Just some conversation over dinner.” 

“I guess I can do that.”

He smiles. “Thank you.”

Her heartbreak from him could be described as the most tragic symphony; at times, it was quiet and allowed her to function, at other times it’s so loud she can’t get away from the sadness, and sometimes it would rise to a fever-pitch and the anger would burst from her chest. Right now, there’s something calm and joyful playing—she’s able to remember him with fondness and can actually enjoy the moment, whilst still being honest. 

Her heart, soul and dreams still belong to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think in the comments. I love getting feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

_“I’m not sure what you want from me.” She throws her hands up in surrender, these fights becoming a regularity and exhaustion creeping into her limbs and features._

_He scoffs and they’ve gotten to that point where everything could make her cry._

_“Just one day without this.” His hands wave in between them, as if he’s showing her something. “I can’t fucking breath with you.”_

_That’s their problem. He’s addicted to his freedom, so much so that he can’t bear the thought of letting her in fully. She’s the opposite—she wants to be consumed by love, she wants it to take them over and be hers exclusively._

_“I’m not asking you for the world.” She says defeated. “I’m asking you to be real with me.”_

_“I’m being real with you, Gwen. You want me to be blunt about it? Fine. I screwed her, a bunch of times. It didn’t mean anything—I came back here, cause this does.”_

_ There’s a tense pain that aches through the entirety of her being, but she can’t move away or even look away. This is the man that was supposed to safe her; this was her silver lining, the one who’d make it all worth it.  Instead, he delivered blows she felt she could die from, but never actually did. The knife sits precariously on her skin, soft enough to not pierce her heart, but hard enough to deliver the message. The first few times it happened, it felt cold and raw against her skin, but after having gone through this twice before with him, her body felt oddly used to the betrayal, the heaviness in her limbs the only indication of having heard his admission.  _

_“You say you care, but you know this kills me. Why do you keep doing it?”_

_She wishes she could go without answers, she wishes she could say she was walking away now, for good. But that’s not what she’s saying and she knows it’s not what she’ll do._

_ She’s surprised to see genuine anguish in his eyes. “ Does it matter?” _

_The truth is that it doesn’t. It doesn’t matter if he has a fully logical reasoning behind his actions, it doesn’t matter if he actually does love her; he hurts her time and time again and she lets him. Whether it’s her own damn pride or stark belief that she can’t possibly get it wrong twice, she allows him to throw daggers at her heart as she tries desperately to not let it kill her._

_“I want you, I chose you!”_

_His eyes seem to darken at her words and she’s immediately aware of the escalation that’s bound to happen._

_“You know damn well you never chose me.” He hisses. “I’ve always been your second choice.”_

_His words are deafening; she’s never heard him say them out loud, but she’s always known that’s how he felt._

_ “I just want you to be in this. I want you to stop running…” At her words, she steps closer to him, her hands grabbing at his arm. “ You’re enough for me. I don’t  ask for much, because I don’t need much—I want you to love me and not run unless it towards me.” _

_“I’m not him, Gwen.” He yanks his arm free and she’s left taking a few steps back, feeling the kick-back of his words like a physical punch._

_ “I….”   
_

_“It’s fine, I get it.”_

_His voice is uncharacteristically calm, as he moves to walk away from her._

_“Gavin, wait!”_

_He turns around and takes a few steps towards her, his look so intense she probably would’ve taken a step back if she wasn’t utterly frozen in place from the intensity of the situation. She can feel her heart pounding; either from the anger or nervousness that was threatening to overwhelm her as they were finally verbalizing all their feelings._

_ “ I know he’s not in your life anymore, you probably wouldn’t even let him cause you’re with me now. That doesn’t mean you’re not always gonna wish it were him though. We were both foolish to think that would change someday.” _

_Right in this moment, she wonders how she’s still alive—how her heart manages to keep beating as rapidly as it is with everything it’s put through._

_“It has changed.” She whispers._

_It has changed._

_It had changed._

*

The apartment was slightly bigger than hers, the interior screaming Blake’s name as he kept it simple, but brazen. The brown leather couch a shade darker than the vibes he’d accented the living room with, a classically smooth, yet rugged vibe transcended from the place—the view over some of the city’s most prominent buildings only complementing the picture.

It was inviting, felt like a home from the minute she entered. Kind of like himself.

A delicious smell wafts up in the kitchen, where she’s sat at the rather large island. He has two bar-stools with the same colour as his couch, reminding her a little of the fake-leather chairs they sat in when she first ran into him again. He’d already had some coffee ready for her when she arrived, setting it in front of her as he takes a quick look at the food brewing on the stove.

He’s always been a great cook; much better than her.

“I guess you were right when you said we needed to get to know each other all over again—I had no idea what kind of food you’d like anymore.”

He catches her gaze as it lingers on his preparations and she looks away shyly.

“Whatever it is you decided on, it smells delicious.”

“Come here.”

She does as instructed, his body turning towards her so she can stand in front of him. “Pasta seemed like a safe choice.”

He holds out his fork in front of her, motioning for her to take a bite of what he’s currently cooking up. Her mouth waters after the first taste, the little white parcels wonderfully filled with creamy spinach and a salad with mixed greens and parmesan cheese on the side.

“This is incredible, Blake.” She moves her hand in front of her mouth, not able to wait with giving him a compliment.

A boyish grin lights up his features, as he gives a simple shrug; the one he always gave whenever he was proud of himself but also slightly tickled with some shyness.

“It’s not that hard, I can teach you one day if you’d like.”

She smiles up at him, the suggestion rooted in a much deeper meaning and she has no problem catching onto it. “One thing that hasn’t changed, is my inability to perform in the kitchen.”

She can tell he wants to say something, but he bites his tongue. Instead he ushers her to sit back down, the food ready to be served.

It’s different sitting here with him now, but they fall into easy conversation rather quickly. She doesn’t know whether it’s the good food or the equally amazing red wine she’s sipping on, but the many years between them seems to matter less with every moment she’s sitting here.

“Do you like it here? As a place to live, I mean?”

It feels like a normal question to ask, something safe to make conversation, but she knows the reason for her asking is much deeper than it appears to be.

The way he slightly hesitates has her guts churning.

“I like it here.” He says eventually. “It’s different though.”

“Different in a good way?”

“Different in a neutral way. It’s just something to get used to.”

She doesn’t look at him, instead forks at the last remnants of the food on her plate and Blake eventually politely asks her to put her fork down.

“Baby, you’re gonna damage the plate if you keep doing that.”

She looks up at him like she just got shocked, the nickname slipping out of his mouth like it’s nothing and by the way he seems oblivious to her reaction, it’s safe to say he really didn’t think anything of it.

“Sorry.” She almost whispers, as she clears her throat. “I was off in my own little world, I guess.”

He frowns at her, not believing that’s all there is to that, but he lets it go with a little discomfort.

“Do _you_ like it here?”

She thinks about the question longer than she would like, the answer much more complicated. There’s a fleeting moment where she thinks about lying, but reminding herself that his lack of truth is the only thing that’s keeping her from him, she can’t get herself to do the same to him.

“It’s weird because I came here with _him_. I was supposed to build my life here with my husband and do that whole thing; house, kids, dog. Things obviously didn’t quite work out that way.”

She watches him swallow at the mention of her ex, but doesn’t show much more emotion.

“Why didn’t you come back to LA?”

“I thought about it.” She answers quickly. “But my company is here, and well, my life has been here for the last twenty years. I can’t just pack up and leave.”

The words are out before she knows it and squints her eyes closed tightly as she realizes how the words left her mouth. Blake’s head lowers a little and she shakes her head in mild panic.

“Wow I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m—“

“It’s OK Gwen, really.” He cuts in. “I deserved that.”

She shakes her head again. “It’s not what I meant. I was just talking about how I can’t leave this life behind, I built too much here.”

He scratches his jaw for a moment before finding her eyes again. “And if you hadn’t? Would you have moved back then?”

She’s not quite sure why he’s so interested in her moving back to LA, that shitty feeling of him maybe not planning on staying here creeping up on her once more.

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it that much.”

It’s the first lie she’s told tonight, because she’s been thinking about moving back from the moment her ex-husband signed the papers.

“Want some more wine?” He asks suddenly, the change of subject so sudden, she takes a while to answer.

“I’ll come with you.”

She carries their plates into the kitchen as she follows him back, none of them saying a word. There’s a sudden tension there that wasn’t here before and she feels restless underneath the weight of it.

She watches as he opens a still sealed bottle, handling the wine cork with a finesse she’s not used to from him; it’s like everything about him is now grown up and ten times more sophisticated. It makes her sad to think she missed out on witnessing that growth.

She’s so deep in thought again she doesn’t realize he’s standing in front of her with both of their glasses, waiting for her to grab hers. She blushes slightly and follows him back into the living room, yet she doesn’t let herself sit down on the couch. She watches him watch her from a distance and she has the urge to become very fidgety when he looks at her like that. It used to be sign of passion from his part—he’d look at her so intensely like he was taking in everything that made her Gwen. The adoration would often lead to hours spent in the bedroom, but she knows tonight is different.

But the feeling stays the same.

“You’re not gonna sit down?” He asks slowly, his voice hoarse.

She shakes her head quickly, not trusting her own voice as she takes a sip of the red liquid in her glass, basking in the feel of it rushing down her throat.

“Why not?”

She downs another large sip of her wine instead of answering and Blake’s brows shot up. It’s obvious she’s suddenly much more aware of where she’s at and with who and suddenly this friendly date doesn’t feel as friendly anymore. It could hardly ever be; there’s too much history there to pretend like they could ever be ‘just friends’.

“Dinner was nice.”

She changes the subject with a smoothness that reminds her of the way her ex-husband used to lie and the way Blake left her all those years ago.

Regardless of realizing what she was doing, Blake didn’t force the conversation back to where it was. “Thank you, in all fairness, I felt like I had to impress.”

She hums. “No need to feel like that.”

She watches as he lifts himself off the couch and walks to the opposite side of the apparent, pressing a view buttons on his phone and visibly waiting for it to connect with something. She looks at him with a confused expression until she hears the speaker below the television connect with his phone.

Her eyes grow wide as she shakes her head, but he dismisses it quickly and smirks. “Since you don’t want to sit down, I thought we could do something that allowed you to keep standing.”

She shakes her head again, her heart damn near in her throat.

“Come on, Gwen.” He reaches out his hand to her and wiggles his fingers while he waits.

She’s gritting her teeth like she’s still debating on his offer, but deep down she’s already bracing herself for how it feels to have his body that close again.

Just as she takes his hand, some less known Sinatra song starts playing—she knows it can’t be a very famous one since she’s not sure she’s heard it before and she loves Sinatra. Something he knows—and her chest quivers with the shallowness of her breathing already.

“I don’t even know this one.” She whispers

He untangles their hands so he can wrap his arm around her waist, low and loose and she subconsciously sinks more into him, the feeling of his chest pressed against hers bringing back so many memories it staggers her.

“I could’ve told you.” He says then, suddenly. “That’s the name of the song.”

He’s never been the one for subtlety, but in this moment, he’s so incredibly see-through she feels the need to close her eyes against the picture he’s making. She takes in a deep breath and lets her head linger against his shoulder as he confidently sways them.

Her own arms are laced around his waist now too, grabbing at the fabric at the back of his shirt and being with him like this, shouldn’t feel as natural as it does.

It’s like whatever she does, this feeling won’t ever go away and she will forever fit perfectly in the space he creates for her. The music created a whole other dimension around them, as she wasn’t worried about anything else outside of these walls, her body moving with his like this wasn’t someone she should stay away from.

Her feet accidently steps on his a few times, but it does nothing to dim his smile. He just directs her differently and keeps holding her close. It’s clear nothing else matters to him either in this moment—just them.

If only that had always been the case.

“Are you relaxed?” He asks into her hair.

“For the most part. This is kind of soothing.” 

She finally lifts her head off his shoulder and looks at him, their faces dangerously close to each other since there’s no space between where their bodies are pressed against each other.

He lowers his head enough to press his nose against her cheek and hums. She can feel the vibrations of that tiny noise all the way in her toes, the light touch of his face against hers enough to send her in a tailspin of her own, desperately wanting him to do more but also praying he doesn’t.

He pulls away seconds later, taking his previous stance as her chest rises and falls with the adrenaline speeding through her body. He promised not to cross that line with her tonight and he seems to be honouring his promise. There hasn’t been a moment in her life ever where she wished for a clean slate more than now.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, let alone getting to dance with you again.”

The words are out before she knows it and she can feel Blake tense up in her arms a little. He recovers quickly and tightens his hold on her, swaying them into a different direction.

The song had stopped playing by now and skipped to the next one. She recognized this song to be “The way you look tonight” and she almost wanted to laugh at the mixed signals she was receiving from the universe.

“You think too much.” He nudges her

She huffs. “How can I not?”

“It’s easy.” He answers quickly. “You just close your eyes, live in the moment and focus.”

“Focus on what?”

“On this.”

“Until it ends.” Her voice sounds bitter and wrecked with a new batch of nerves.

“Gwen….”

She looks up at him again, his swaying suddenly a bit less rhythmic as he returns her gaze.

“Everytime I leave you, I’m going to be wondering if this was the end of a night or the end of another lifetime.”

She watches as he takes a deep breath in, letting it all out with one low sigh that eventually floats off like smoke in cold air. “I’m sorry, Gwen.”

The words are soft and painful, both know it’s an apology that’s many years too late, yet they also know there’s nothing else for him to say. Nothing else but everything.

“Then tell me…” She urges him. “Tell me why you left. You say you’re sorry, you say you still love me. If that’s true, you would agree that you at least owe me that.”

His arms fall away then, her body suddenly growing cold at the loss of his heat around her. She instinctively wraps an arm around herself as he walks away from her and presses the speaker off, cutting the music off mid-song.

She can tell he’s irritated, but she can’t tell whether that’s directed at her or himself. When he swallows loudly and stares down at her stomach to avoid her gaze, she knows its most likely the latter.

“Blake.”

“I got sick, Gwen.” 

His voice was uncharacteristically vulnerable, the emotion pouring out of all the cracks he’s showing. 

“You put your whole life on hold for me— you were willing to leave it all behind in order for me to live my dream and I knew you’d do the same if you knew I’d gotten sick...”

She shakes her head, not because he’s necessarily wrong, but because she genuinely doesn’t understand. 

“I don’t get it, you left me because you were sick,  but you knew I would’ve stayed with you?”

“ Lymphoma .” His voice suddenly gets tougher and more powerful with his admission. “I found out I had cancer.”

Her breath hitches, her whole body feeling like it was shutting down. She shakes her head as silent tears make its way down her cheeks.

“I knew you’d drop everything to be there for me and for _what_? There was a chance I wouldn’t even make it out alive; you would’ve lost it all—it wasn’t worth it.”  

There was so much she wanted to say to him; she couldn’t believe he went through that all alone, without her by his side and she couldn’t believe he just said it wouldn’t have been worth it to have her there with him . But she can’t do anything else but stand there and stare at him in stunned silence.

“Gwen, you gotta know that I never wanted things to end the way they did between us. I did what I thought was fair back then, I did the selfless thing, I set you free.”

She swallows roughly, his words disrupting every shred of inner peace she  _could’ve_ found. 

“What about now?” She whispers.

“What do you mean?”

She feels more than she hears the shaky breathes coming out of her mouth. “You said you did what felt fair  _back then_ , what about now?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I would do it again.”

Part of her isn’t surprised by his answer, but his honesty while it’s so clear she was hoping for a different answer is almost astounding. Her heart breaks a little more when she realizes honesty has become so foreign to her over the course of these years.

“I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

He makes a move to step closer to her, but she puts both of her hands up in front of her body in warning. 

“How can you possibly think this is fair Blake? I loved you! It should’ve been  _my_ decision, not yours!”

Something in his eyes changed from painful to frustrated in a matter of seconds. 

“This disea se was about to take  _everything_ from me Gwen and there was nothing I could do about it; it was all out of my control—this decision was not.”

She whisks a few angry tears away now, her voice sharper than she intended. “You didn’t know that, you could’ve taken a chance on us. On me.”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you taking care of me any more than you already were.” His eyes were desperately seeking hers out, trying to soothe over her painful feelings. “I wasn’t alone, Gwen. I had my mom, Adam and Behati...”

She knew his words were meant as comfort  to her, but hearing the names of everyone he  did allow to be there for him only intensified her sadness.

“.... Just not me...” she whispers.

The feeling that comes next barely feels real. The realization bounces off the walls, unable to penetrate her mind, unable to register. It’s like she’s hearing the words through a soundproof window, but somehow feeling the sting of it regardless.

“I loved you, Gwen. I still do.”

His vulnerable statement hangs in between them for what feels like hours, but she’s unable to do anything with it. He loved her, but he didn’t want her support when he most needed it. He loved her, but he pushed her away without preamble. 

“I can’t be around you right now.” Her heart breaks as she speaks the words, but being around him brings an incredible heartache that’s too intense to deal with. 

“I know I can’t possibly erase all the hurt I’ve caused you by leaving the way I did, but  Gwen, I...”

“You could’ve called me some day, wrote a letter,  _damnit_ Blake , anything would’ve been better than this.”

Her face is damp with tears, her nose running as she tries to taper her breathing. He seems to be contemplating his next actions—not wanting to do any more damage, but also not good at watching her fall apart like that.

“I’ve thought about doing that a million times, but that doesn’t matter now, I didn’t.” 

“Why not?” She whispers shakily. 

“You moved, got married, I knew I blew my chances and you deserved a fair shot at happiness. Without me.”

Her lips part, her breathing getting heavier at his response. “So it was my fault?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” He blinks quickly, the insecurity on his face almost painful to look at. “That’s not what I meant.”

Her feelings are all over the place, her sanity nowhere in sight as she frantically paces around his living room, her hands flying almost compulsory through her hair. When their eyes finally lock after a few minutes, he’s looking at her desperately; unable to figure out what to do now.

“Tell me what I can do, Gwen? How can I make this better for you?”

She’s seconds away from a complete breakdown and that’s something she doesn’t want him to see, yet doesn’t think she can keep it away from him much longer. 

“There’s nothing you can do.”

Her eyes release the moisture they’ve been holding for a while, her defences coming down one by one, as her control slips away from her with every tear that hits the ground. Her anxiety settles into her bones; panic starts like a tightening of the chest as if her muscles are trying to not let another breath in.

“Gwen…” He tries softly at the sound of her breath hardening. “Look at me for a second.”

She shakes her head furiously, her breath still coming out uneven. She knows all the anger and sadness coming out of her now isn’t all his to carry, but he’s the one who triggered it, which means he’s the one who will have to bear the consequences today.

“No.”

“NO.” She says louder this time, even though it’s her own body that’s seeking his out, walking close enough to put both of her hands against his chest.

He looks at her full of pain and regret then and something snaps deep within her.

“Do you know how long I’ve spent thinking that you leaving had something to do with me? Do you know how long I’ve spent trying to figure out what I possibly did wrong? Or how my ex-husband never thinking I was enough only reminded me of how you didn’t think so either?”

“Gwen.”

“Did you think about how leaving like that would make _me_ feel?”

“I’m so sorry, Gwen.” He chokes out.

He says the words, but it’s not enough—if only, it fuels her more.

She’s pushing against him now, her hands firmly pressing into his chest as she pushes him away only to follow him and push him away some more. He lets her get it out, taking the insults as they come, until he finally has enough and grabs her hands—not hard enough to hurt, but enough to halt her assault on his chest.

She fights against his hold for a while, twisting and turning in attempt to free herself from his grip, but he doesn’t budge. Instead he walks her backwards, towards the couch and presses her down onto the cushions, crouching down in front of her with his hands now on her shoulders. 

“Let go of me.” She whispers hoarsely, even though his grip is not nearly hard enough to keep her there, they’re just there as support to ground her.

Without getting too far away from her, he scoots around so he’s now seated next to her on the couch, both of his hands now safely on his lap. His eyes are still fully on hers.

“You asked me if I would do anything differently and I told you I’d do it again...” He recalls the words exchanged earlier. “I still stand by that.”

She closes her eyes at the recollection of the moment, a bitter sigh the best she could do with her eyes filling again and her throat closing.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t regret the _way_ I left you, Gwen.”

She tries to focus on what he’s saying, which is getting hard with how loud her breathes are getting. She wants to tell him to keep going, but she’s pretty sure her voice is shattered.

Luckily he doesn’t seem interested in stopping just yet. “I should’ve given you more, I should’ve at least make you realize none of this was your fault...”

“You should’ve given me the truth.” She whispers through her tears.

“You never would’ve left.”

 _And what’s so horrible about that?_ The words don’t escape her mouth, but her mind is scattered with the question. Yet, she knows it’s useless to ask.

“You love without armour, without any kind of protection. You give all of yourself to someone and have blind faith that they’ll return you the favour—but that’s never your motive for giving love to someone. You just do—it’s without cause. I wanted to protect you from giving too much of yourself to me, losing yourself to someone who could quite possibly disappear forever, taking all that love with him for you to never see again.”

She releases a sound that’s between a sigh and a sob, his words crashing down on her hard.

“You were the most interesting person I’ve ever met.” She whispers after what feels like an eternity, her eyes lighting up a bit at the trip down memory-lane. “I was so desperate, feeling like I had lost myself and then you came along and made me realize I was too young to even know myself. I couldn’t have lost me, because I never even _had_ me, yet.”

“No one does at sixteen.”

“But I found myself with you.” She replies. “The way I loved you, the way I still love you, that’s me, Blake. I love hard and I don’t walk away from the people I care about, not even when times get hopelessly dark—that’s who I am.”

He shakes his head.

“Yes, it is.” She defends quickly. “I wouldn’t have lost that, even if you had left us. It’s selfish to even think you had that kind of power over me.”

That seems to get his attention, as his eyes widen slightly, his own breath now coming out harder. “It’s not about power, Gwen.”

“It is, you thought I only knew who I was _with_ you, not alongside you.”

“I wanted to go through this disease in the most peaceful way possible. Feeling regretful and guilty about stringing you along was not gonna do that for me.”

“It was never about me. You didn’t want to save me, you wanted to save yourself.”

“I could’ve died.” He damn near yells. “Is it so bad that I wanted to save myself from even more pain and heartbreak?”

She’s surprised at his sudden raise of voice, her mind finally starting to make sense of what’s happening—and what reallyhappened in the past.

“It’s not.” She finally admits. “You just shouldn’t have lied about it.”

“You’re right.” His hand comes to tilt her chin up with his fingers so he can look her into her eyes as he speaks. “I shouldn’t have lied about it and I was selfish. I loved you, Gwen. I had my whole future planned out for us; when I thought ten years ahead and pictured myself coming home from work, it was _you_ I came home to. When I pictured myself ever getting married or becoming a dad, it was _you_ I pictured it with.” His eyes look glossy while he spews his admissions. “Having all of that get possibly ripped away from you…. I couldn’t deal with it, Gwen. I pushed you away before it could actually happen and I’m sorry.”

She looks away, his words holding so much meaning she can barely breath, her head dropping to his shoulder in reflex. 

“I want to earn your trust back, Gwen—if that’s even still possible. I know it won’t happen overnight...”

She nods against him, even though her words display the opposite. “I’m not worth the trouble.”

“You’ve _always_ been worth it.”

He hugs her tighter to him, placing a soft kiss on her dishevelled hair. “I’m sorry I made you feel like the opposite.”

She knows she’s gonna cry again before the tears come pouring down, but she doesn’t care—she doesn’t have the strength or willpower to make herself look stronger than she feels, she doesn’t want to spare him from all the pain he caused her, because she’s been carrying it for two decades.

When he doesn’t move away, but only tightens his hold on her while she cries, she realizes that no one breaks or _fixes_ her easier than him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter, cause they were supposed to be two separate ones. I decided to put them together since I plan on putting my focus back on ICLY. Please let me know what you think about this story this far, comments make me better :)

_Babe, come on.” She whines. “Just talk to me.”_

_“Talk?” His voice is razor sharp and she knows a fight is bound to happen. “Since when do we talk about this?”_

_She’d been avoiding the issue all together, ever since it happened and she could feel the bitterness drop from his words all the way through her bones._

_“I guess I deserve that.” She says softly, her gaze nervously planted on the floor._

_They usually don’t have a problem talking, communicating. She trusts Blake completely, she wants all the things he wants, but the thought of almost having made a life together, is too much to comprehend for her._

_“Look Blake, I don’t know what you want me to say. We thought I might be pregnant, but I’m not…”_

_He pauses as if he’s trying to summon the strength to say his next words. “It’s not that. We have all the time in the world for that, you’re only twenty-two.”_

_“Pregnancy scares happen, Blake.”_

_“It’s not that.” He says more forcefully now._

_“Then what is it?” She throws her hands up desperately. “What’s gotten you so upset you can barely even look at me?”_

_His mouth opens and shuts, the words dying on his lip before he speaks them, pain and regret written all over his face—and it only confuses her more._

_“Blake?”_

_“I wouldn’t have wanted it.” His eyes are piercing at her, his gaze relentless. “If you were pregnant, I wouldn’t have liked it.”_

_She can’t disguise the hurt on her face, but she tries regardless. “Why are you telling me this? I’m not pr— “_

_“You were happy. For a second you believed you were pregnant and you were happy about it.”_

_Her hazel eyes are now brimming with tears, his name barely a whisper on her lips._

_“Blake...”_

_“You’re only twenty-two, you have your whole life still ahead of you, yet you were perfectly fine with dedicating your whole life to me, to us.” His voice has gotten louder as his eyes never left hers. “Don’t you see how crazy that is, Gwen?”_

_ Her fingers are gripping the countertop so tightly, as if she’ll fall apart  if she lets go.  _

_“You’re mad at me for not being upset at the thought of having a child with you?”_

_“Yes!” He finally hisses. “You should’ve been freaking out; you should’ve told me how stupid we’ve been and how you weren’t ready for a commitment like that.”_

_All she can do is stare at him while he spews his truths at her, her own heart growing cold at his admission._

_“But that’s not my truth, is it?” Her throat clogs up as soon as she starts talking, her voice breaking on the last syllable. “It’s yours.”_

_“We’re not ready.” He whispers._

_“And it’s not happening! Jesus Christ, Blake. It’s literally not happening, I’m not pregnant, you get your wish.”_

_She’s full on crying now, she’s always known that she’s in it for the long-haul with him and it’s becoming clearer that he might not feel the same way. Anger rises when she sees him lower his head, unable to watch her cry; he can break her heart, just not watch while he does it._

_“My wish would be for you to not throw your whole life away for me.”_

_She wants to shake him, tell him that having a child doesn’t equal throwing your life away, but the words all get stuck in the back of her throat, a few breathy sobs the only thing filling the room now._

_“I was scared.” She finally admits softly. “I was terrified at the thought of actually being pregnant.” His eyes find hers once again, regret and something she can’t decipher pooling in his._

_“I worried about not being ready, about not knowing the first thing about being a mom.” Her voice cracks again and she silently curses her own weakness. “But then I realized, none of my fears were about you. It was never about not wanting it with you and that made me happy, Blake. I was happy because I knew no matter what the outcome would be, it would be with the right person.”_

_She watches him stare at her with a damn near unbelieving glance, his own eyes glistening as she watches him struggle to formulate words._

_“What if I’m not?”_

_“What if you’re not what?”_

_“What if I’m not the right person?”_

_“You are.”_

_“Don’t throw your life away for me.”_

 

 

She’s abruptly pulled from her sleep, the early morning rays of sun making its way through the thin curtains in her room. Her body jerks at the force of it, almost like she’s just been pulled out of a horrible dream—instead it’s her reality that’s shocking. She misses the darkness that engulfed her from midnight to now and tries closing her eyes against the rudely persistent morning. She’s surprised she even got a couple hours of sleep in after last night’s revelations. A revelation that answered so many questions, yet didn’t give her any peace of mind.

Blake’s words from that fight they had, the week before he left her keep playing over and over in her mind.

_Don’t throw your whole life away for me_.

He was warning her. He was telling her to prepare for a life without him.

The thought of Blake was the last thing on her mind before she went to sleep and the first thing on her mind since she’s been conscious. Being covered by layers of love and pain by Blake seems to be recurrent theme; neither one seems to exist without the other. She has loved Blake ever since they’ve met, it had shaped her, tainted the way she looked at things and painted her world in a colour she’d only heard about before him. Alongside that gift came the years of resentment and pain he’d left her with in the same breath. Sleepless nights spent thinking about what could’ve been, numerous pillow-cases had to be replaced in the morning cause she soaked them through the night before.

She’s spent years thinking she wasn’t good enough or she had scared him away with her overwhelming need to be with him, while in reality he struggled with a life-threatening decease, and she had no say in whether or not she’d stand by his side throughout it.

Answers is all she’s ever wanted—now she has them, it’s the one thing that makes her head spin, like her brain cells have been randomized and nothing makes sense anymore.

He thought he might die. 

If he had, the last memory she would’ve had of him was him heading for the door, suitcase already packed, his face seeping with regret at the time but his voice steady and determined. He didn’t want her anymore; she had to move on, chase her dreams, forget about him. He’d given her zero time to change his mind, his heart already fully checked out by the time he delivered her the news. It was hard and brutal the way he broke her heart, and now she realizes it was the only way to make sure she would go and never look back.

Her phone buzzes on her nightstand, making her gasp as she’s interrupted out of her thoughts. The indicated notification is enough to get her palms sweaty; no one is really texting her anymore these days. No one excepts for him.

_The office is a mess without you. Please tell me you didn’t forget your deadline? – Liz  _

There’s a moment of irony that hits her, cause ofcourse she’s wrong. She should know by now that whenever she expects it to be _him_ , it never is.

The moment is quickly forgotten when the meaning of Lizzy’s text penetrates her mind and her heart starts racing again, only this time for completely different reasons. She kicks off the covers and stumbles into the bathroom, scrambling to get ready in the span of now and ten minutes.

Blake always used to tell her that when he’s around, she forgot about her own dreams. It was a burden to him to see her put herself on the backburner, selling herself short. She never believed it, never felt it, but maybe he wasn’t entirely wrong. He’s only been back for two months and her whole life has been turned upside down by it; the dream she’s been working on, that manifested itself into her own company, now once again suffering beneath the weight of it.

_ I’m on my way NOW. Don’t let anyone go anywhere and apologize in advance; we’re about to work some over hours – gx _

 

*

She’s slumped over her desk, the office now alarmingly quiet after hearing stressful voices and frantic footsteps all day. Her eyes try to settle in on some of the pictures scattered over her desk, but her eyes are so worn out, she can barely make out anything past the basic outlines. She’s in the middle of fantasizing about her warm bed and soft duvet, when her friend and long-time assistant enters her office doors.

“OK, you know I love you, but these kinds of hours are not good for anyone.” 

It’s with great difficulty that she manages to lift herself up from her desk and sits back into her favorite armchair.

“Lizzy, I’m so sorry. Things have been so crazy lately, I completely forgot about the deadline and about how far removed we actually were from the finish line.”

Her friend seems genuinely worried as she takes a seat next to Gwen, her eyes never leaving her exhausted frame.

“What’s going on with you?”

She looks away at her desk once more, her fingers playing with the now-finished-designs. Talking about the craziness that is her life, sounds oddly comforting, but it’s hard to put in words what she’s going through without sounding like a madman.

“Would you believe it if I told you the love of my life came back after more than twenty years of not seeing him?”

She didn’t look at her friend while she asked the question, but she could picture the look on Lizzy’s face perfectly clear.

“Excuse me?”

She chuckles. “It’s crazy, I know.”

“The love of your life….”, her friend murmurs. “…… _Blake?”_

His name left her mouth in a huge gasp and if things weren’t so damn complicated, she would’ve laughed about it.

“That would be the one.”

She hasn’t told her friend too much about him, other than the fact that he broke her heart and she used to believe they would end up together. ‘Forever’ and ‘eternity’ words she scrapped from her vocabulary after he left.

There are a few wandering moments, no words being exchanged, when she finally looks to see what Lizzy’s thinking.

“Please tell me you didn’t get sucked back into the swing of things…”

Gwen grimaced at her words, before softly biting her lip in silent admission.

“Jesus Gwen, you can’t let yourself fall for it again.”

“He got lymphoma, Liz. Cancer.”

The words still sting on her tongue, tears burning in her eyes again at the mention of it. “He found out two weeks before he dumped me.”

Her friend shakes her head, unable to make sense of this new information and she doesn’t blame her.

“He thought I’d put my whole life on hold for him, while the result could be death and he couldn’t deal with that. Said this was his choice and he’s standing by it.”

The taste of her salty tears still lingers on her tongue from last night, she must’ve cried so much she inevitably had ran out for the day.

Lizzy looks at her worried. “Jesus Christ Gwen, what now?”

She shakes her head. “That’s the problem; I don’t know.”

She steps in front of her suddenly, pulling her chair away from her desk and forcing her eyes up.

“Listen to me, you need to get your mind off things, have some carefree fun…”

“Lizzy, I don’t think….”

“Shut up and listen to me.” She interrupts strictly. “We’ve been invited to this local fashion fundraiser—all up and coming names in NYC will be there to give back while also putting themselves on the map…”

“We’re already established, Liz.”

“Exactly! You’ll stand out! That’s my point, we _need_ to go.”

“Why haven’t I heard of this thing?”

“One of my friends is throwing the event, it’s this small annual thing, I usually go alone. But this is the perfect opportunity for us, with L.A.M.B branching out and you going through this weird time -period...”

“That’s one way to call it.” Gwen huffs lowly.

“Just come with me. All you have to do is bring a few items or design-sketches, put them on display and socialize the rest of the night away.”

There are so many things she should rather be doing, so many things she’d rather be doing, but she’s spent months hiding away after her recent divorce, her ex-husband’s infidelities chipping away at her confidence, so spending some time socializing and meeting new people might not be such a bad idea.

She nods at her friend once, giving in to her with a hand through her hair. “When is this thing happening?” 

Lizzy claps her hands excitedly at the question. “Tomorrow night!”

“Great.”

“Yes, Gwen! I promise you, this is going to be a good thing.”

* 

Pulling the dress from its hanger and stepping into it, was the easy part. She stared at herself in the mirror, convinced that if these were other circumstances, a different life, she’d feel confident—the dress revealing enough to be considered sexy, but still in the realm of imaginary appeal. She’d made sure to indulge in some expensive winery, the alcohol coursing through her body deliciously dulling her reason while she zips the dress into place, the final touch to reveal some cleavage.

She hasn’t done anything like this lately; dress up and have fun. At least not the kind of fun she was about to get herself into today.

By the time she’d gotten into an Uber and found her way to the fundraiser, she was already past three glasses of wine, which made her entrance considerably less scary.

Her friend nearly throws an arm around her neck at the sighting of her and she smiles ruefully—if it weren’t for Lizzy she never would’ve come, so she guesses her reaction is appropriate and expected.

“Just have a good time, OK. No walls, no bitterness, just fun.”

Her friend makes sure to emphasize her words as she eyes her intensely and Gwen can do nothing more but to nod and give in. She’s here now anyways and she’s unequivocally alone; no matter Blake’s sudden comeback or her ex-husband’s latest text to her, begging for a fresh start, she’s ignoring both tonight because she can.

She doesn’t owe either one of them a second chance.

It doesn’t stop her from having this masochistic need to relive the moment her and Blake met again every single day; the way her breath caught for a second, the way his eyes had this brief glimmer of hope in them the moment they woke up together; the electricity that had filled her veins before it turned cold and bitter. She remembers it all vividly, trying desperately to convince herself that it didn’t mean anything. It _doesn’t_ mean anything.

She was fine before he came along again. Maybe not fine, but she was managing, she didn’t need things to go back to how they used to be. But now, now she’s wondering what it might be like to wake up every day besides him again, what it would be like to be with mature, grown-up Blake.

She’s going to need another drink.

She’s used to the socializing on a scale like this, it’s not too hard when you get the hang of it; people don’t actually want to know how you’re doing, they just want to make themselves heard—a few gentle nods and interested hums will get you through most of the conversations. She’s been in about four small conversations before she manages to get to the bar, her hands smoothing down the wrinkles in her dress, the humidity of the venue causing the fabric to stick to her bare legs.

She orders herself a Cosmopolitan and scans the luxury space she’s finding herself in—there are numerous of people she does know, making Lizzy’s statement about it being all about up-and-coming designers not necessarily true.

“Miss?”

Her head snaps back towards the bar, her gaze an apologetic one.

“I’m sorry.” She says shyly as the bartender hands her over her drink.

Her eyes snap up to his and she’s momentarily taken aback by the deep brown eyes staring back at her. She takes a few moments to take in the younger man’s sharp jaw and cheekbones, his hazel eyes accompanied by chocolate-coloured curls, only completely smoothed back—he’s the complete opposite of Blake and maybe that’s why she’s taking notice now.

She clears her throat, disgusted with her own trail of thoughts. “Thank you.”

The man nods friendly, his eyes never leaving her body. She can tell he’s checking her out and normally she wouldn’t be interested, but today, she can’t deny how good it feels to at least be wanted by someone.

“This party, it’s not your type of thing?”

Surprised by his question, she gives him a questioning smile. “Uhm, no…. I mean yes, _yes_ , it is. I just have a lot on my mind.”

She’s gotten so bad at this; she can’t even articulate herself like a normal human being. Instead she overshares when this guy is clearly just being nice. Socializing.

“It’s OK, you don’t have to tell me. My name’s Collin.” The friendly bartender extends his hand for her to shake, which she does nervously.

“I’m Gwen.”

The sweetness of her drink sticks to her lips as she licks it away after every sip, the motion purely instinctive but appears seductive. She’s not used to being a single woman and suddenly the power she feels at knowing she’s effecting another human being that doesn’t know the least thing about her, is strangely liberating.

“You know, my shift ends in an hour. If you’re still here, I might try to find you.”

She can tell he’s confident, he’s not cocky like Gavin or self-aware like Blake—it’s a balance that has her frightened yet intrigued.

She finds it within herself to sound utterly seductive when she speaks, her composure the only indication she’s out of her wheelhouse. “I might like that.”

It’s about an hour and some minutes later, she finds herself leaning against the balcony, gazing over the city that once excited her more than anything, when she feels rather than hears someone approaching. She doesn’t even have to look his way to know who it is. When he appears next to her, smiling softly with that light twinkle in his eyes, she finally softens her demeanour and smiles over her shoulder.

“I wasn’t sure if you still had one of these.” He says as he hands her another drink, champagne this time.

She takes it willingly, her fingers lingering against his accidently. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“You’re not driving, aren’t you?”

She chuckles and shakes her head, a few shivers popping up on her arms as the chilliness of the night catches up with her. She doesn’t even have enough time to complain about it before he spreads open his jacket and drapes it over her bare shoulders.

“Thank you.” She whispers.

Collin offers her a small smile but brushes her thanks off quickly. It irks her how she’s not able to fully appreciate his kindness, being taught that she’s only shown that when it’s convenient, not when it’s real.

It used to be different with Blake. He would show kindness in the most genuine ways, always making her feel like it was merely what she deserved—anything less would’ve been wrong. It sucks how even if their time apart didn’t fully erase that, her time with Gavin had lessened its value.

She turns back towards the balcony, resting her free hand on the railing to ground herself as she stares over the lit-up city streets. She can feel him take a step closer to her, not close enough to be inappropriate but close enough to extend an arm around her back. She falters slightly as she sips her champagne and recovers in what she hopes a bit of fashion.

If he notices, he doesn’t call her out on it.

Before she realizes what she’s doing, she leans into him, her head resting on his shoulder. No, she didn’t intend to get this close with a stranger tonight, but she’s finally free of any commitments and boundaries; she owes it to herself to at least try and figure out who she is without the shackles of her past.

“It’s much better up here than it is inside.” She says softly as she lets the gentle breeze calm her instead of chill her. “I could stay here forever.”

“Yeah.” He softly agrees. “Try working downstairs, everything becomes much better than inside of there.”

She chuckles. “You don’t seem like the type to work behind a bar. No offense.”

“No offense taken.” His arm wraps around her a bit tighter and she’s pleasantly surprised when her first urge isn’t to flee. “It pays the bills. Plus, sometimes I have the pleasure of meeting beautiful women.”

Her fingers trail lazy patterns onto the steel bars of the balcony. “ _Mm, yeah?_ ” She wonders out loud. “You meet a lot of women like this?”

He looks at her with a playful expression, pretending to think about his answer. “Kinda, I only take a handful up to this balcony though.”

“Oh my god.” She squeals in faux-protest, before slapping his chest. “Real classy.”

“I’m just kidding.”

Another gentle breeze of wind hits her, displacing a few lose pieces of her hair, as one of them sticks to her mascara. A sudden heat floods her cheeks as he carefully extends a finger to unleash it from her lashes and tucks it back into place.

She looks up at him with both wonder and caution. “Don’t you have a girlfriend to come home to?”

Apology etches into her features the moment the words are spoken and she can’t believe her own mouth sometimes—her insecurities so prominent she can’t even disguise them for one night. She makes an effort to take her words back, but Collin beats her to it.

“I wouldn’t be up here with you if I did.”

He doesn’t sound upset with her earlier accusation, but she can tell he’s taken aback by her words nonetheless.

She feels the need to clarify her assumption.

“Trust me, there are a bunch of guys who would still be up here with me, even with a girl at home.”

“Sounds to me like you’ve been dating some jerks.” 

“Sounds to me like you have no filter.”

He grits his teeth and seems genuinely embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I’ve been told I have none before.” 

She shrugs lightly, finally meeting his gaze again. “I kinda like it. None of the guys I’ve been with seemed to have a thing for the truth.”

It’s a statement that’s way too real and way too personal to share with someone on the first night of getting to know the person, but she’s feeling more comfortable around this guy she knows nothing about, than she’s felt around the people she’s known for years lately.

“Sometimes you meet people who introduce you to the truth even when they lie.”

Her breath staggers momentarily and she’s torn between wanting to rip into his statement or ask him to elaborate. She decides on doing neither, instead she looks at him like he just spoke to her in another language; in a way, _he had_. 

“You obviously think that’s a load of crap.” He chuckles.

“You don’t?”

He shakes his head once. “No. I think it’s very much true.”

She can’t help herself then and turns into him a bit more, her face now fully facing him instead of the city below her.

“A lie is a lie, there’s no truth in deceit ever.”

It’s his turn to look at her like she just grew two heads and she’s genuinely surprised at his opinion on the matter.

“A lie is only a way to cover up the truth, not erase it. The reason why someone lies or to whom, is usually wrapped up in truth.” 

She bites her lip so tightly she almost draws blood, his words so real she feels the ache deep in her body. She wonders if he can tell how much he’s hitting home with her right now.

“It’s no excuse.” She whispers painfully.

“I’m definitely not saying that, it’s wrong either way.” He rushes the words out like he he’s afraid of being interpreted the wrong way and it’s a contradiction to his generally confident exterior. “But there is truth there. If it hurts too much to remember the lie, it might help to remember the motive.”

“What if they’re both horrible?”

“Than you one-hundredth percent dodged a bullet.”

When she looks up at him again, she’s once more met with his playful smile and it’s hard to remember why she’s being so cautious in the first play. His eyes are dark and intense and she’s entranced by it as much as the nervousness settles in the pit of her stomach. It’s a foreign feeling, being attracted to someone else, maybe even interested.

It’s in that moment her courage flails out and she takes a step back, coughing to make sure she gets her voice right.

“I should probably head home.”

There’s a hint of disappointment on his features, but he doesn’t push her any further. She watches as he bites down on his lower lip and appears almost bashful.

“Can I at least have your number? I really enjoyed talking to you, Gwen.”

She doesn’t know whether it’s the alcohol or his eyes, but she gives in a few seconds before she even utters the word yes.

It’s not until she’s giving his jacket back, makes her way downstairs and into the Uber, her fingers tracing over the new name in her phone that she truly processes what just happened; she doesn’t have any expectations, she might not even speak to him ever again, but the thought that she might is exhilarating.

The headlights of the car light up her whole driveway as the familiarity of her own place dawns on her; silently thanking the driver for getting her as close to the door as possible, the alcohol flowing through her veins finally showing its effect. When she finds stable footing on the stone tiles beneath her, slamming the car door shut, she finally focuses enough to take in the sight in front of her.

Blake’s sitting on her front step, his elbows leaning on his knees as he looks at her slightly confused, but mostly amused. She doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing here, but she also knows she won’t be sending him away anytime soon. The joy of tonight’s events turn into her sorrow now and despite the overwhelming feeling of knowing she doesn’t owe him shit, she can’t help but feel guilty at how she felt about someone else less than an hour ago.

“Blake?” She stammers out quietly.

“Sorry, I was about to leave but then I heard the car pull up…”

“It didn’t look like you were about to leave.”

She makes her way over to him, but makes sure to step around him carefully, inserting her key in the lock with minimal finesse.

“I needed to see you.”

Her gaze moves up from her door to where Blake was sitting on her porch—he’s now fully up and standing next to her though. Their eyes meet for a few seconds, his brow furrowing at the sight of her so obviously restless.

“This late?” She manages to get out, her heart slamming against the inside of her chest violently.

“I didn’t think it was that late to be honest.” He chuckles. “But I did in fact let time slip away from me this evening.”

She grabs her phone out of her pocket and takes a quick glimpse—the alcohol must have been rising to her brain, since it’s only ten pm and she could’ve sworn it was already way past midnight.

“You can come in, but I honestly feel like I could crash any minute.” She walks in while hearing Blake close the door behind her 

“Party that hard?” He asks.

“Fundraiser. A fashion thing.”

She hears him hum. “I didn’t think they’d be that brutal.”

“It’s just been too long since I’ve even been out, period.”

A soft moan escapes her lips when she’s finally able to take these damn shoes off and Blake chuckles as she dramatically lets herself fall onto her couch.

“Jesus woman, you gotta learn to drink properly. This is tragic.”

She flicks a pillow to where he’s standing and closes her eyes. “Shut up.”

She feels the couch cushion dip slightly, indicating he just sat down next to her. Keeping her eyes closed for a couple more moments gives her time to prepare for what’s about to be a whirlwind of feelings. What she intended to do when she got home was stare at her phone and think about these new stirrings a stranger brought to life—but what she’s about to do is talk to the one person who can interfere these new feelings with a fresh dose of his own.

“I won’t stay long, let you get some sleep.”

Blake’s voice cuts through her thoughts and she finally opens her eyes to look at him. Regardless of his surprise visit and her own inner turmoil, her lips still curve up at the sight of him sitting on her couch—a sight she’d given up on so long ago.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call after our conversation. It’s just….”

“It’s a lot, I get that.”

That might be the understatement of the century, but she doesn’t correct him.

“I was gonna text you tomorrow.”

He smiles at her then. “I guess I beat you to it.”

He looks at her like he’s full of amazement and wonder about her and sometimes it’s almost enough to make her want to fall back into him, until she realizes he’s looked at her like that before and it still wasn’t enough to make him stay.

“I didn’t even ask you about your medical state now. I mean, are you…you’re…”

The words were still hard to speak out loud, the truth behind his leaving an impossible pill to swallow. Blake seems to falter under her gaze for the same reason, she assumes, but recovers quickly and determined. He cuts her off before she can try to ask the question more articulate this time.

“I’m good.” He states damn near cheerfully. “Feeling healthy. Have been feeling that way ever since they declared me clean twenty years ago.”

She can feel the relief make its way out of her body, her shoulder sagging back into the couch after his words subconsciously untangled the tension out of her bones.

“That’s good. That’s real good.”

The way he smiles at her words reminds her of what they write books about; it has this certain radiance that makes it damn near irresistible to smile at the sight too.

“I was worried about you when you left, though. I couldn’t let this day go by without checking up on you and well, it’s easier to get fooled over the phone.”

She chuckles at his honesty, truth dripping off her lips like honey. “You told me you almost died and kept it from me for nearly two decades. No matter your motives, that’s not something I’m just gonna get over.”

He seems a little dumfounded at her little outburst as he stares at her. “I don’t expect you to.” 

“What _do_ you expect from me?” She shoots back, her voice quiet but her words right on target.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head almost fearfully, fearful of saying the wrong thing. “I’m not expecting anything from you, Gwen. I just wanted to be there for you.”

She bites her lips, the words all too enticing, but simultaneously maddening.

“What if I told you someone else offered to be there for me? Someone with a clean slate.”

She watches the meaning of her words dawn on him like the heaviest of weights, his eyes slightly darkening as he processes her insinuation. Regret creeps into her heart at the sight of it, but there’s also a part of her that’s tired of pouring warmth into him when he so easily shut her out. His abandonment lays deep within her heart, each memory adding a scar to the collection.

“Is that what happened?”

His voice sounds more pained than anything, but the one thing she can’t find there is judgement. 

“I’m not sure yet.” She whispers.

He’s quiet for too long then and the fabric of her dress starts sticking to her overheating body; the feeling of unease so apparent she can’t help but jump up and pace around—a habit that’s not foreign to Blake at all, but always had a way of bringing him discomfort.

“Gwen…”

“I don’t understand anything that’s happening.” She says bewilderedly. “You suddenly appeared back into my life and everything seems to start happening at the same time. I was barely making sense of things as it was, I don’t know what to do with all of this.”

Probably sensing the panic in her voice, Blake stands up to meet her halfway, not closing all the distance, but making his presence known nonetheless.

“I didn’t come back to make things harder for you.” He says softly. 

“That’s inevitable.” She shoots back, her words coming out fierier than intended. “I’m sorry, _look_ , I wouldn’t have come over two nights ago if I didn’t still like spending time with you...”

“Things have changed, I get that.”

She takes a few shaky breathes in, her legs suddenly feeling wobbly against the alcohol and raging nerves. “I just don’t know if I can ever get over you leaving like that.”

She’s usually a very non-confrontational person, avoiding these type of conversations coming way more natural to her than what she’s currently doing, but liquid courage seems to be really fucking apparent in this moment.

“You coming back has brought back all these feelings I’ve been trying to forget about for so long and I had to come see you, even if it would all go to hell—I would have never forgiven myself if I didn’t at least go back once to try and remind myself...” 

He steps closer to her what seems to be a complete subconscious move, his voice sounding almost bitter. “It was nostalgia that made you say yes to dinner.”

It was a statement, not a question, yet she answers it like he asked.

“No, it wasn’t that— _it’s not that_.” It’s the first time she’s ever seen him look genuinely insecure, like he’s unsure of whether or not he’s about to get his heart ripped to shreds. “I’m just afraid, Blake. Afraid of history repeating itself. I wasn’t enough for you then- “

“That’s never been true.” He argues quickly. “I’ve always loved you more than anything, that’s been the case from the moment I met you. We were just so young and I didn’t want to feel like I was keeping you from living your life.”

“I never wanted to make you feel like that, Blake.” She whispers, her voice finally cracking under the emotion of it all. “But you left and I just never heard from you again. Do you know how many times I wondered if you’d just forgotten about me?”

Those words finally spin him into action, his hand reaching out to rinse through her hair, his palm curving her nape in a familiar way.

“I could never forget about you, Gwen.” He sighs, hating the look on her face, the hurt and embarrassment blending in his blue eyes. “I hate that I managed to convince you that you weren’t worth a second thought. I promise you Gwen, that’ll be the biggest regret for the rest of my life. It couldn’t be further from the truth either; I’ve never stopped thinking about you.”

She feels herself choke up at his words, her throat constricting painfully.

“You were my first love the same way I was yours.” He continuous. “With everything I went through in life after you and me, I kept circling back to you in my head.”

His confession is loud in her ears, his palm burning into the side of her cheek but she still leans into it further.

“It wasn’t nostalgia that made me come back the other day.” Is all she can say, and apparently, it’s all he needs to hear. His arm draws her closer to his body until his mouth is only inches from hers. Her chest stutters at the proximity, her gaze falling to his lips and down to his fingers tightening around her hipbones.

“I don’t want any empty promises, Blake.”

“I don’t plan on giving you any.” He murmurs, twining his fingers though the fine strands of her hair, stroking his thumb against the vulnerable skin behind her ears.

She drops her forehead against his in surrender, her heart torn and tired from the many different emotions this one night has brought so far.

“It’s your call baby, you gotta tell me what you want to do.”

She shakes her head in confusion, her forehead still pressed against his as she speaks the words almost against his lips.

“What do you mean?”

He sighs softly. “You said you met someone and I _know_ I lost my right to expect anything from you. If I’m too late, if you want to try and find happiness with someone who hasn’t broken your heart in a million different ways, then I’ll fall back Gwen.”

She doesn’t know she’s crying until Blake’s thumb is whisking tears away from her cheeks.

“I don’t know.” She whispers against his mouth, her breath coming out uneven.

When she moves in and kisses him, she knows it’s wrong. But she missed him—missed _this_ —and right now, that’s the only answer she has for him.


	5. Chapter 5

It didn’t make any sense. One moment, she wants to get as far away from him as possible and the next moment she’s passionately kissing the air straight from his lungs. It takes him a while to fully reciprocate, but when he finally does, she finds herself abruptly pushed up against the nearest wall.

His hand on the back of her head was the only thing that kept her from banging it against the wall, her mouth opening as she felt him press further against her. His eyes make contact with hers for a few seconds, fear and confusion seem to cloud these pools of blue, but all that fades away when she snakes an arm around his neck and crashes their lips together once more.

He uses his teeth to cage her bottom lip between his and rakes one hand through her hair, grasping the lower strands to keep her in place. Her body is on fire for him, clouding her judgement and quite frankly, all her ability to think reasonably.

She makes a sound then, all desperate and needy, right before her breath catches. He wastes no time tilting her head so he can suck on her lower lip and press his body more intensely into hers to keep her up. His mouth is soft, warm and inviting as ever, his hands weaving into the back of her hair providing a slight touch of pain, just enough to be enjoyable. His tongue swipes past hers again and she moans in answer, her hands pushing at the back of his head to deepen the kiss. She finds herself tugging at his shirt, panting and whimpering while he finally takes a step back and rest his head against her forehead.

“Gwen, what are you doing?” His rough voice mumbles against her lips, his arm coming to rest against the wall next to her body, trying to find a bit of restraint.

“I don’t know.” She breathes honestly, her hand grabbing at his waist and pulling his lower body to collide with hers.

Both gasp at the impact, her head snapping back involuntarily. “Just kiss me again.”

She can see him shake his head, but he leans in anyways, kissing her like his life depends on it.

Maybe it does.

“This isn’t right.” His words sound broken and vulnerable, his head already catching up to what his heart has trouble accepting.

“You wanna talk about what’s right, right now?”

She’s surprised at her ability to still give a coherent response, especially with the way his lips suddenly attack her neck as he hits a sensitive spot, her eyes slipping shut as she manages to barely suppress a moan.

“You’re angry.” He states, his lips still on her neck while he speaks.

She grabs at his bicep for some stability, forcing herself to look down at him. “Not angry, just hurt. I’m always hurt.”

His lips got a sudden confidence that knocked the wind out of her—his hand at her waist slides down to her upper thigh and without warning, his leg moves in between hers, his upper thigh now pressed against where she secretly wants him all along. The moan escapes her lips before she can control it, but gets muffled by his mouth.

“That’s not a way to live, Gwen. It’s not what you deserve.”

Between the pressure he’s applying between her legs and the words he speaks against her mouth, she’s aware she’s struggling to keep up. Her breath is short and ragged, her hands grabbing at the wall and sometimes at him—anything to keep her from losing her balance. 

As good as it feels, she knows he’s right and she can’t let this go on. It would only drive a bigger wedge between them if she let themselves go down this road again, knowing full well she might not be ready for that, or willing.

Pushing softly against his chest, his lips back away from the skin on her neck.

“I shouldn’t have……I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t know what else to say, words seem to fail her as she tries to get some breath back into her chest.

He must’ve realized he’s still got her backed against the wall, cause it’s just now that his hands leave her body completely and he backs away a step. Her dress falls rightfully back down her thigh as he pulls away and just stands there. He looks at her intensely while she reads his clouded expression, knowing exactly what he’s thinking. She can’t stand to watch the realization wash over him, so she pushes herself off the wall and smooths down her dress, tearing her eyes away from him uneasily.

“Why kiss me when you know you’re gonna regret it?”

He speaks the words through broken breathes, making them sound almost like whispers, but she can hear the anger and frustration behind his words.

“I shouldn’t have— “

“I didn’t ask you if you should’ve done it, I’m asking you why.”

Her eyes drop down to the ground, suddenly embarrassed about the whole situation. She has no idea why she allows this to happen every single time, why she gets these moments of hope that are so intense she can actually picture a brand-new start with him, only for it to be crushed by reality some fleeting moments later.

“You didn’t stop me.” She whispers.

“I’m not the one regretting it.” He hisses.

She felt the tension in the room hitting her like condense on a glass, his words clear as day. An apology lays at the tip of her tongue, but she can’t get herself to spit it out. The remorse drips from her facial features though and Blake seems to catch up on every ounce of it—realizing that what happened just now couldn’t be anything more than what it was; a moment of weakness.

“Whenever you’re around me, I feel like I’m back to being 17 and hopelessly in love with you.” She starts carefully, still eying the ground. “I feel like I want to run away with you somewhere where it’s just us and nothing else matters. And then I remember I’m not 17 anymore and those times are over; I need to let you go, just like you did of me all these years ago.”

“That’s not the same thing, Gwen. You know it.”

“I don’t actually.” She looks up at him now, his eyes darkened with frustration and sadness. “If you think for a second we could ever get back to a healthy place together, you’re lying to yourself.”

A wave of tiredness hits her body and she’s suddenly more aware of the night’s activities and how much she craves the quietness and tenderness of her bed. It feels like the worst punishment to have to stand here in front of him any longer, disguising all her truths and guilt from him.

_“I lived, but I killed us._ ”

The words feel like a physical punch to the gut and she’s not even sure he spoke them to her, his hands running tiredly through his hair.

“Blake...”

“You said you didn’t want to hear any empty promises from me, but I feel like I should’ve been the one to tell you that, Gwen.”

She inhales deeply, the statement not completely justified in her mind, but she understands where he’s coming from so she keeps quiet.

“I’ve made so many mistakes, I’m not even going to pretend like I haven’t. I wish I could take it all back and magically make things alright again, but I can’t do that either. I don’t blame you for not wanting this anymore, but god damnit Gwen, just don’t play with me.”

She shakes her head as she approaches him, but he takes a few careful steps back.

“I feel like you keep telling me how you understand if I can’t go back to us, but you get angry with me every time I tell you so.”

The smile that paints his face next is purely sarcastic.

“You got to be kidding me?” 

She shakes her head once more.

“It’s not about you not wanting this anymore, Gwen. It’s about you fucking leading me on.”

“I’m not leading you on, Blake!” She can feel herself getting angry now. “I’m just confused and everytime you come around, you force me to deal with that in the moment.”

She bites on her lower lip as her eyes turn glossy with tears, the weight of all the regrets between the two of them almost suffocating.

“Then why don’t you just tell me now and I’ll back off for good.”

Her eyes widen at his words, the tears she fought so hard find solace on the canvas of her cheeks.

“So you _are_ leaving again?” 

“Unless you don’t want me to. But I need to know if I’m doing something good by staying or just continue to hurt you.”

“I think it will both hurt.”

And that’s the truth. She can’t begin to think about losing him again, but the thought of him staying doesn’t bring her that much relief either. Her heart breaks at the memory of what they once were and where life had gotten them now.

“I broke your trust, I get that. But tell me something…” He starts carefully, even though his eyes keep looking at her intensely, almost like he’s looking through her.

Her throat feels dry suddenly, because she _knows_ that look. He’d only ever look at her like that when he was feeling emotional and demanded harsh truths from her.

“What would you have done if you’d almost died? Can you look me straight in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t have done whatever you could’ve done to make things a little better?”

She squints her eyes, her answer seemingly too simple. “I wouldn’t have left you, definitely not without any explanation.”

“Not even if you knew your boyfriend would choose you over _anyone_ , even his parents?”

Her eyebrows narrow and she feels her chest constricting, the pressure there far from pleasant. Anger rises and hovers over her like morning fog.

“What did you just say?” 

His eyes flame in response. “You know it’s true.”

Her situation back then was complicated and even though Blake had always been supportive of her, she knows he couldn’t quite understand her resentment and detachment towards them. Blake has always had a great relationship with both of his parents, the rather unstable family situation Gwen escaped from too different to understand.

“I had to get out of there, Blake. That had nothing to do with you, I’d left that place even before I’d met you.”

“But you never went back, you were content with it just being us forever.”

“Not everyone has it the same as you did!” She yells then. “I didn’t grow up with a dad who was interested in how things were going at school or a mom who was fiercely protective of her kid towards the world. I had to deal with things on my own, so I did.”

His back straightens at her words, his regret palpable yet he doesn’t dare to speak.

“I can’t believe you just threw that in my face. You out of all people know everything I’ve gone through with them and for you to just say I was ‘perfectly content’ with not having that normal family dynamic is fucking bullshit.”

Her profanity must’ve shocked him, because he finally clears his throat to speak. “I’m just trying to make you understand my point of v— “

“—Well you can’t.” She interrupts fiercely. “You can’t make me understand your side of things, because you were selfish. That’s all.”

“That’s all?”

His voice is full of surprise and hurt and she feels like they should just stop talking since nothing good is gonna come out of anything tonight.

Her own hurt wins out against her common sense as she slams the last nail into the coffin.

“That’s all.”

What pains her the most in the next moment, is how easy it seems for him to flick straight back into his detachment mode. His passion and love for her from earlier just seems like a moment of weakness from his side now. When he walks past her without even a glance her way, she realizes the things that just became more important to him and the things that stopped mattering.

 _Her_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're approaching a turning point...

She hasn’t heard from him in weeks and knows she probably won’t ever again, but that’s okay. She’s been doing her own thing; she hasn’t been a minute late for work again, decided to schedule in a weekly spa day with Lizzy and even agreed to seeing Colin again. Truth be told, she’s still not sure where this could lead and she’s been honest with him about that. They’ve been talking daily for about two weeks, in which she’s expressed her confusing feelings and situation regarding Blake. She kind of expected him to run for the hills after that, but instead he promised her it’s not a problem.

She found out he’s indeed younger than her. He’s in his early thirties, used to do a bunch of modelling gigs, while now making ends meet by working in catering for fancy gatherings. It’s almost like he lives in a bit of a bubble; he’s never been married, doesn’t have kids, spent most of his early adult life being fawned over and now decided he wants to make money on a more regular basis. She was surprised to learn he’s actually not that vain, unlike her own ex-husband and he’s free of any real heavy baggage, unlike Blake. Unlike _her._

It’s been nice to talk to someone who still sees life in such a light way; his outlook on certain things can be much described as an overlarge child who just hasn’t been tarnished yet, but he doesn’t cross that line of childish. He’s boyish in the way he’s carefree most of the time, but he’s not necessarily naïve. She’s always had a thing for the more sophisticated, heavy and scarred men because she lives for depths and layers, but maybe that’s been her problem. Maybe a Collin would’ve left her with less scars of her own.

It’s with that thought on her brain, that she reaches for her phone and invites him over. She’s lonely and confused, but she loves to talk to him and lately these conversations have been making her feel more normal than anything else in a long time. She just wants casual and easy; she doesn’t always want to think about deceit, abandonment or sickness.

“You look lovely.”

Her posture falters underneath his gaze, the sweetness rolling off his tongue meddling into the sourness of her mood.

“Thank you, I don’t see how that could be true though.”

She throws him a weak smile before playfully pushing at his arm as she leads them into the living room area. His eyes never leave hers as he sits down, his hand waving for her to crawl next to him. She can’t deny it’s a little strange being this close to someone else, but it’s thrilling all the same.

“And why is that?” He finally asks.

“Work has been doing a number on me lately, today being no exception. I’ve been running around all day and I feel like my heart and I could both need some time off.”

He looks at her worriedly and there’s a weird warmth that spreads through her body at the realisation that his care for her seems genuinely real. “I know work is something we can’t always change, but whatever, or _whoever_ , is doing a number on your heart needs to take a hike.”

She knows he’s being polite, since she’s told him about Blake more than once and knows about their situation in an abstract way—withheld from most the details.

“If only it was always that easy.” She smiles softly, her hand running up and down his arm.

“Isn’t it?”

She shakes her head, pulling her knees up so they’re resting on the couch, the slight shift bumping her body closer against his. She waits for his reaction, but there isn’t one, instead he’s still focused on her and seems completely unfazed by her stealing his space.

“Have you ever been in love?” She asks, locking his gaze as she waits. “Like, _really_ in love?”

His head cocks to the side like he needs to think on it for a while. “Once.”

“What happened?”

“The usual. You fall for each other, there’s the honeymoon phase where everything’s sweet and colourful and then real -life comes crashing in and shakes that all up.”

She bites her lip and squints a little.

“That might be the most cryptic way I’ve ever heard a break up described.”

He laughs at that. “You might be rubbing off on me.”

Her squeal is high and full of surprise. “I’m not cryptic!”

“Just a little bit.”

“I’m not. Haven’t I been the most open with you?”

She realizes that he likes to stir the pot a little, biting on the edge of a smile every time he feels like he’s outsmarting her. His eyebrows are slightly raised, that mischievous look spreading over to her own features and settling there.

“You have been.” He admits. “I’m just saying you have a way of storytelling that’s very…. poetic?”

“Poetic?”

“Yeah, you don’t like to sound harsh or judgemental. You tell stories and translate pain into something a bit less hurtful.”

It sounds almost ironic; her pain has been anything but beautiful. She doesn’t think pain could ever truly be beautiful, only in movies and in the minds of people who have never been pained.

“Trust me, none of my pain or heartaches have been pretty…. At all.”

There’s a bit of silence after her words, something she’s not used to with him. Collin’s confidence shows most in his ability to speaks words in moments where other’s might be quiet; he’s aware of the fact he’s easy to talk to, but doesn’t appear pushy.

“Blake, he really hurt you, didn’t he?”

For a moment, she’s shocked to hear him say his name, but she recovers quickly, swallowing back the bitter taste of heartbreak on her tongue.

“That heartbreak changed me. I don’t think he could ever understand how much he changed me by not being there.”

She winces at her own honesty and tries to change the subject quickly. “I’m sorry, that’s not really the kind of stuff you want to talk about on a date.”

Collin looks at her with a hint of amusement on his features, his hand stilling on her arm.

“Is that what this is? A date?”

She’s usually pretty comfortable with feelings and vulnerability, but she suddenly feels exposed and naked, not sure if she just said the wrong thing.

“I mean not really a date maybe, but we’re hanging out and we like each other, I mean you do, right…. like me?”

He chuckles at her cuteness. “Come here.”

When she moves, it’s with slowest of tempo yet her heart is racing. There are a million reasons as to why this is probably not a good idea, but she’s about to turn her back on all of them in a minute. When she’s close enough to feel his breath on her lips, she moves to kiss him softly on the corner of his mouth before moving inward and going for it completely.

It’s weird. It doesn’t feel like she hoped it would.

Feeling herself get frustrated with the newfound revelation, she throws herself to the task with more determination and intensity; she can do this, she can forget about _him_.

One of her hands moves to the back of his head, while she connects their lips once more, parting his with her tongue so softly she’s not even sure she’s done it, until he reciprocates with a slight moan. He cups her cheek, tilting her head as his teeth nip at her lower lip. He’s not bad in the slightest—she’s had worse kisses during the duration of her marriage—but she still can’t feel that thing she feels with _him._

He’s latching onto that look he sees in her eyes, praying he hasn’t gotten this wrong before deepening their kiss even more. A noise leaves the back of her throat, but it’s more of a whimper than a moan and before she knows it, he’s pulling back a little.

She doesn’t say anything, they just look at each other with both of their adrenalines still spiked from the physical contact, just for two different reasons. She registers it in his eyes then; she’s over shared—she told him exactly how she’s feeling without saying anything. There’s a flash of hurt in his eyes that’s too quick for her to respond to it and her hands grip at the collar of his shirt as a form of comfort, but it might be what hurts them more.

There’s not enough time to bask in it as the doorbell disrupts the silence between them. She gives him a questioning look, but he dismisses it quickly.

“Go.” He whispers so softly she wonders if she imagined it. She slowly lets the fabric of his shirt slide through her fingers as she pushes herself off the couch, her legs dragging her to the front door while her mind still lingers on the confusion of the earlier moment.

She’s halfway through opening the door when she realizes she made the biggest mistake. The door isn’t even fully opened before Blake pushes past her, unaware of her company.

“We need to talk.”

“Blake!” She says panicked, dealing with enough as it is without adding the tension of her ex-boyfriend meeting her new flame. “Wait a second.”

He turns to look at her, the seriousness of her tone must’ve grabbed his attention, but it’s already too late as he flickers back and forth between staring at her and throwing daggers at the guy sitting on her couch. She feels equally as bad for both, but doesn’t know what to do as she stands nailed to the ground.

“ _I see_ …” Blake’s voice is barely a mumble and she recognizes that voice all too well.

Thankfully for her, Collin’s brain still seems to work as he slowly stands. “I’ll just go.”

She knows they still have to talk about what happened, what _didn’t_ happen, but she also can’t deny that she’s relieved when he announces his departure.

“Collin, I’m sorry.”

He walks past Blake like he can’t stand him and she doesn’t blame the guy; from all the stories he’s heard so far and the fact she can’t seem to get him out of her mind as hard as she tries, she wouldn’t like Blake either if she were him. The way he shoots daggers at Blake doesn’t seem to sit well with her former lover though and she can sense things going wrong if she doesn’t get Collin out of here quickly.

Grabbing him by his arm, she leads him passed Blake and walks with him to the door.

“Whatever you thought you saw in my eyes before, it’s not like that. I don’t regret what just happened, I just…”

“You just didn’t feel anything.”

She shakes her head softly. “I did. It just wasn’t…. I can’t go there right now.”

His hand softly caresses her cheek and she involuntarily grabs his hand to keep him there for a bit longer. “You deserve more.”

“Collin, don’t…”

“… Don’t be honest? Don’t talk cause he’s here? He’s an idiot, Gwen. Anyone who can’t see how good they have it with you is an idiot.”

Her heart is beating so fast she’s surprised she’s still standing. When she speaks again, it almost comes out like a hiss and she winces internally. “Not now.”

“No, let him continue.” Blake’s voice suddenly barks through the tension. She’s not surprised to hear him, but she closes her eyes in defeat regardless.

“I’ll call you later.” She addresses Collin personally, ignoring Blake’s presence behind them as she nods towards the door, pleading with him to not make things worse.

She can tell he’s this close to obeying, but the moment he decides to go against her silent pleas is obvious and loud to her ears.

“You know what…” Collin starts confidently, looking behind her to address Blake. “Are you aware all you’ve been doing is disrupting her peace ever since you’ve decided to come back?”

She flinches at his choice of words, but she knows the way he said it is probably what’s gonna irk Blake the most.

“You seem young, so I’m not gonna take your lack of knowledge personal, but I’m seriously advising you to take her hint and take a hike.”

She turns around so quickly it nearly dizzies her, as she shoots Blake an angry look. She places a hand on Collin’s arm and squeezes in comfort, much like she did earlier on the couch. “Please.”

Once again, her plea is ignored.

“Like you advised her to take yours when you left her without a word? Real classy by the way.”

Her back tenses up at his words and she can’t help the rage surging through her body, directed at both guys in front of her.

“That’s enough.” She hisses. “Collin, get out. Now.”

She’s staring at him so intensely she didn’t even notice Blake approaching them.

“You want me to help you along?” He says it like a question, but his mind seems to already be made up. Both of his hand push firmly against Collin’s shoulder, slamming his back harshly into the wall behind him.

“Blake!” She yells while grabbing his arm. “Let go of him.”

Instead of obeying her, he pulls him off the wall and towards the door, she can hear the fabric of his shirt tear with the force of Blake’s hold. During a moment of distraction—which comes when Gwen pulls at his arm again—Collin manages to get a punch in, knocking Blake back as he stumbles into Gwen who’s standing behind him.

For some reason, he decides to look at her before swinging back, and maybe it’s the look of disappointment in her eyes or the tears on her cheeks, but he decides against it and throws his hands up instead. She ignores the gesture for now and walks up to where Collin’s readjusting his collar and smooths over his knuckles from the impact of his punch.

She wants to ask him why, ask him if this was worth it, but she does neither. He looks at her for a moment before shaking his head and finally heading for the door without any further encouragements. “Collin, I….”

“Don’t bother.” His hand motion is much like he’s flipping her off, and even though she didn’t think they would come back from this, it still hurts.

She watches him until he’s out of sight and leans her head against the door when it’s closed. She can’t get the image of Blake having him slammed against the wall out of her mind or the look in Collin’s eyes when he realized he could never live up to her expectations. It takes her ten more seconds before she pushes herself away from the door and invades his personal space, poking her index finger firmly into his chest.

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?” She cusses.

“Gwen, how was I supposed to know he’d be here?”

“It’s not about that.” She shouts. “You should’ve left when you saw him. Or ignore him, anything but put your fucking hands on him.”

She can see the anger flashing in his eyes, but she doesn’t care for it. “He was out of line…”

“So you just take the bait?”

Blake looks at her like she just grew two heads. “Why do I always have to be the bigger person?”

She chuckles at that. “Since when are you ever the bigger person?”

“Since my ex-girlfriend started to fuck around with me and then got some young boy toy to escape her problems with, instead of talking them out with me.”

Her jaw nearly hits the floor at his words, the urge to slam her own hands into him hard to suppress. She swallows loudly, letting the sting of his words engulf her. She finds herself waiting for his retraction, an apology in some shape or form, but Blake seems confident in his statement and just like her, doesn’t seem ready to back down.

“We’re not together. I’m free to do whatever the hell I want.”

He nods at that.

“You’re free to rub it in my face too, but is it really helping anything?”

His cockiness is astounding, but she can’t even get herself to get upset about that when her heart is still breaking over all the other things between them.

“I didn’t think you’d just show up here.” She hisses. “I’m not rubbing anything in your face, Blake. Like I said, I’m just trying to figure some things out.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to do that now.”

Her eyes catch every minuscule movement, from the way his head tilts like he’s suddenly slightly nervous, the way his lips purse underneath her blatant stare, even the smouldering desire-filled gaze that culminates in the depths of her stomach.

“What does that mean?”

“I didn’t just randomly drop by.” He says softly, his voice suddenly laced with less anger and fury and replaced by something much calmer. All the emotions of the night are threatening to overwhelm her, her eyes filling again without even knowing if there’s a reason.

“I’m not staying.” He says then. He said it so gently, she can’t believe the kickback of the words. Her arms cross defensively across her chest, her mouth drying up as she looks up at him full of confusion.

“I’m going back to LA. Coming here wasn’t the right thing to do. I see that now.”

She’s vaguely hearing his words, but she’s not looking at him anymore. All she can register is that he’s leaving her again. He’s never going to stay; she’ll never be enough to make him stay. She can hear him say her name, but she doesn’t react to it, she’s not even sure she’s still breathing.

“You’re the worst.” She whispers angrily, whisking away the tears that fell to her cheeks again.

“Gwen…”

“You’re the worst. At least with Gavin, he never pretended to have my best interests at heart, he was just selfish. But _you_ …”, she pushes her finger against his chest again, this time with more force. “You make me believe you really care and then when you know you have me, you leave me alone again. Is it a power thing? Do you like to physically see me needing you and then take it away?”

She can see his own eyes filling up now, but somehow it only intensifies her anger.

“What the hell are you talking about, Gwen?”

“You come back just to leave me. You got tired of me back then, why didn’t you just stay gone? Didn’t you break me enough?”

She’s crying so hard she can’t even fully make out his response, all she can register is the way his arms are reaching out for her, keeping her from collapsing to the ground as she feels herself falling into his chest. She’s not physically fighting his hold, but when he gently lowers them to sit on the ground, she whimpers against the feeling of his hands on her.

“Calm down, Gwen.” He whispers softly.

It’s like he said the one thing he shouldn’t have and she suddenly finds the strength to pull his arms off her and crawls away from him, until she’s out of arm reach.

“Don’t tell me to calm down.” She says loudly, her own arms wrapping around her body in an attempt to ease the shivers from her skin.

“Gwen, you don’t even want to be with me. Hell, you even admitted that me staying would hurt you just as much as me leaving would. Do you even know what you want from me?”

“I want you to give me time. You can’t just come barging back into my life and expect me to forgive you, you can’t expect _anything_ from me, Blake. You lost that right.”

She looks anywhere but at him, even though her tears were still blurring her vision enough to probably miss any hint of emotion in his own.

“I shouldn’t have left you the way I did, I already told you that. I can’t change the past, Gwen. But it’s not like I found someone else and got tired of you, I thought I was going to die, Gwen! I know it’s not an excuse, but can you at least _try_ to see my point of view?”

The chuckle that escapes her lips tastes so damn bitter, she nearly chokes on it.

“You think I’ve been able to think about anything else but _that_ ever since you came back?”

She can hear him sigh, but still can’t bear to look at him. “I’ve loved you from the moment I met you, Gwen and I never stopped doing so...”

“Stop it.”

But he ignores her once more. “I know you feel like I found out I was sick and just decided I wanted to go through it by myself and never looked back, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The amount of times Adam had to stop me from flying out here and begging you to give me another chance is truly pathetic. I haven’t stopped thinking about you ever and I know that doesn’t make anything better, but it’s the truth. All I can do is promise you to tell you the truth from now on.”

She shakes her head, choking on a sob in the back of her throat. “You said you wouldn’t leave again.”

“And then you told me that me staying here would hurt you”, he replies without missing a beat. “I’ve lived with guilt for hurting you all these years, I can’t add any more years to that list, Gwen. Please understand that.”

She finally looks at him then. His own eyes are red and puffy, the hurt on his face enough to tear up again. She slowly crawls back into his space but doesn’t reach out to touch him.

“I will never stop wanting you, Blake. Do you know how hopeless that makes me feel?”

He shakes his head, his hand finally reaching out for her face; his fingertips sending waves of electricity throughout her body, yet she can’t help but crawl even closer against him. “I don’t know what to say to that, Gwen.”

“I don’t know how to let go of what happened before…” she whispers. “I didn’t know anything about life, all I knew is that I wanted it all with you…”

“I still want it all with you, Gwen.”

There’s so much water under their bridge, talking about it almost seems to drown her. She’s done talking for now; if he’s going to leave her, she needs their last memory to not be one of them fighting. If he doesn’t end up leaving her, she wants this to be the turning point.

Before either one gets another word in, she’s moving against him until he’s laying back onto the floor of her hallway. Her body follows his down, her breast flattening against his chest as her upper thigh moves against the front of his worn-out pants. His hands grip at her waist as he pulls her more steady against him. Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t care, she just needs more of him; she licks at his neck, his chin, lower lip, until he catches hers with his teeth.

Her lower half is flushed up against his groin and with each shift of her lower region she can feel him hardening against her. All common sense flies out of the window then as her hand sneaks down between their bodies, across his stomach and heading intently towards his belt buckle. She begins to slowly draw the leather out of its clasp, her mouth pressing into the most sensitive parts of his neck.

She’s almost got them off, when he suddenly sits up and brings her into a straddling position, her hand effectively falling away from his belt.

“I need to hear you say it this time, Gwen…” he says softly. “I can’t do something like this again if it means having to see the regret in your eyes again afterwards.”

The pain in his voice feels like a slap in the face and it might be the first time she truly sees his own pain for what it is; just as intense—if not more—than hers.

“No regrets”, she whispers before softly kissing his lips. “I promise.”

She kisses him again and this time he lets her take him back down, but it doesn’t take long before he gently flips them so she’s underneath him. His kisses are so deliberate and on target, she can’t do anything but cling to him as she lets him strip her from her clothes, the coldness of her floor sending shivers down her naked back.

“Here.” His voice sounds rough, but the way he manoeuvres his own shirt underneath her to shield her from the tiles drips with his gentleness. It’s the last gentle move he makes, as she hears rather than sees his pants hit the ground as he positions himself at her entrance, the feeling of him there blinding her with excitement and nerves.

She’s close to begging when he finally pushes inside, bottoming out so painfully slow she cries out for him. “Blake, please.”

He gives her a small smile, right before giving her what she wants. The force in which he slammed inside her again wretched a noise from the back of her throat. Her head fell back on its own accord as she arches into him as he fills her. She feels like she can’t breathe, but the sensation of him so deep inside of her, stretching her, made it far worth it.

“Harder” She says in a throaty whisper in is ear, because she wants him to know she’s ready for him now and she needs more.

Her nails dig deeper into his back as he picks up speed and force and his mouth dips forward to close over hers. His tongue searches out for hers, while he swallows her gasps and moans. She can’t remember the last time she’s ever been with someone like this, so passionately, but she’s sure the last time had to have been with him.

She pulls him even closer against her, needing to feel him everywhere. Their chests are completely flushed up against each other, their heartbeats uniting as her lips sink into his neck in response. The slick sound of him fucking her brings her that much closer to the edge.

Her high-pitched moans are turning into a string of serious whimpers. She knows he’s aware of how close she is by the tightening of her walls around him and by the way he pulls back slightly to take a hold of her lips again.

“Come for me baby.” He whispers against her lips, before she lets go.

He doesn’t try to muffle the sound that escapes her throat this time and she can’t hold back either. Her loud cry bounces off the walls as she clenches achingly around him, her body trembling and bucking up into him as she tries to keep breathing.

He growls into her neck and lets her body ride out her orgasm before he thrusts in deep again—she can tell he’s done holding back too. His moans get louder as his fingers dig deeper into the skin on her sides, when she finally feels his hips jerking forward as he tenses on top of her and spills inside of her. She holds him as close as possible while he comes down and expels a shaky breath into her neck.

She can feel herself still contracting against him, her body is aching from laying on the hard floor and the button of his jacket is pressing into the skin on her back, yet she can’t remember a time where she felt more content. She doesn’t want him to move, doesn’t want anything else but to lay here with him on her floor, with him still deeply planted inside of her.

His mind seems to go into similar directions as he cradles her closer and places gentle kisses on her shoulder. She shivers in response, but silently begs him not to stop. With his own heartbeat hammering against her naked chest, she finally allows the exhaustion to settle into her body and melts into him. When she exhales this time, it’s like she finally lets go of what’s been haunting her for the last two decades.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit different; there's a big part that's a flashback, but I felt it was necessary at this point of the story. Please leave any comments/suggestions/feedback behind, cause that makes me a better writer!

She doesn’t quite remember how they got here, but when she opens her eyes, it’s with Blake lying next to her on the couch, her leg swung over his thigh as she feels the ticklish fabric of the blanket cover both of their naked bodies. His features look so much softer when he’s asleep and she stares at him through her lashes, her hand subconsciously starting to rub circles over his heart.

She tries to remember everything that happened last night, but the images of their lovemaking taint all the earlier conversation. It’s like they had so much bottled up tension and desire, when it finally bubbled over, they couldn’t stop. He had moved her to the couch at some point because her back was killing her, where they spent hours latching onto each other, falling over the edge multiple times.

The memories slowly coming back to her as she fully wakes makes her reach out for him as she cups his jaw and guides him in for a kiss. She knows he’s not even awake yet, but she can’t help herself as she lets the softness of his lips coat hers. When she starts nibbling, he finally stirs awake, his tongue tangling with hers his first action of the day.

Her hand lands softly over the rough stubble on his cheek, enjoying the taste and feel of Blake loving on her in the morning. 

His hands slide over her naked back, until they finally settle on her hips. He moans into her mouth as she intentionally grinds into him, her teeth biting down on his lower lip in response. They've always been this passionate, unable to keep their hands off each other; the moment Blake started to lose interest had been even more painful because of it. Her finger threads through his curls, enjoying the way he bucks up at her when she slightly pulls. She’s the first to pull back then, her lips red and swollen as she studies him curiously. Her mind is still reeling a bit from that ridiculously hot morning kiss, but she tries her hardest to focus on the ability of speaking words.

She chuckles softly. "Good morning to me."

He smiles gently, releasing a puff of air. It’s good to know she’s not the only one who’s too affected by this to act normal. His hands stay planted on her hips, as he places a few more gentle pecks on her neck and shoulders. 

“Jesus Christ, Gwen.” Is all he says as he pulls her closer, his hands finally moving away from where they were before and tightening on her back. She lets out a small moan at the intensified contact and lets her head rest in the crook of his neck. She’s always enjoyed how perfectly she fits into his body when she lets herself melt against him. “I can’t believe this happened.”

She hums in understanding—or maybe because she doesn’t have any words for this either. 

“Are we crazy?”

“I’m sure we are”, he says after a small pause. “Do you— “

She looks up so quickly, the rest of his words die on his tongue. His hand reaches under her hair below her ear, his thumb caressing her cheek softly. She reaches out to cup his jaw once more, both hands framing his face as she kisses him again. It’s full of passion and conviction, because she wants – _needs_ —him to understand that this time she’s ready to go all in, no regrets. 

When she pulls back he seems slightly surprised and a whole lot dazed. There’s a flash of uncertainty still colouring his features though. 

“Does that mean…”

“It means we’ve both waited long enough.”

His eyes bore into hers so deeply she’s almost intimidated by it, but she keeps her eyes locked with his, making sure he sees every ounce of sincerity in them. She realizes now that they’ve both been waiting, him leaving had left not just her with scars. Every day Blake had to remember how and why he left her, must’ve been like another paper cut; none were enough to kill him, but over the years had bled him from the peace he once had.

“I want you to stay with me, Gwen.”

His voice sounds soft and hesitant, not at all like the Blake she knows. She hates hearing him so unsure of himself, but she also understands where it comes from, or so she thinks. 

“I will.” She says gently, her finger softly trailing over his bottom lip. “I’m here.”

“No. I mean really stay with me, Gwen…” His words trail off as he looks at her, waiting for recognition to hit. “I’m still not staying here and I want you to come with me.”

Her breath stammers at his words, her hand falling back to his chest. She's suddenly reminded again of all the times she assumed they were good, assumed he had no hidden demons he fought without her knowing, before it all came crashing down and gave her the cruelest reality check she could think of. This moment feels much like all the others, once again not prepared for what had been secretly going on in Blake's mind.

Stammering out her words, she tries to vocalize her hurt and confusion. 

“What? _Why_? We’re good now, you can stay here.”

She has a million and one thoughts going through her head, a whirlwind of emotions flowing through her body.

“Gwen….” Now it’s his turn to rub gentle circles on the skin of her arm, holding her close. “I’ve been running ever since I found out I was sick. It started by pushing you away and then after I’d been declared healthy I ran into another relationship trying to push the thought of you out of my brain... when _that_ started going sour I poured every ounce of myself into my work and when that didn’t give me the satisfaction I needed anymore, I ran here….”

She shakes her head, the amount of information she just got in less than a minute almost too much to digest.

“You can stop running now.”

“Not here. I need to go back home, be around the people who have been in my life forever. I need to finally live there, instead of just surviving. I’m ready to do that now.”

She takes a shaky breath, the craziness of the situation making her head spin.

“Your timing….” She shakes her head again. “It’s the worst.”

“I want you to come with me, Gwen. Come home with me.”

_Come home with me._

His choice of words shocks her, because she's wanted nothing more for so long. The first couple years without him, there was still this glimmer of hope that maybe one day he'd show up again, her newfound love with Gavin not enough to keep her mind wandering off there sometimes. It's that guilt that makes her wonder if Gavin cheating on her so many times might've been her karma; she would've left him if Blake had come back. She knows that. Maybe not during the end of their marriage, but definitely along the first few years. Now he's actually back, Gavin out of the picture and he wants to take her to the place he calls home, while all she needs to feel home is nothing more but his arms wrapped tightly around her.

“I can’t just leave here, Blake.” She throws off the blanket and tries to leave, but two strong arms pull her right back on top of him. 

“Blake, what the hell?”

“Just hear me out.” He tries again. “ _Please._ ”

She shakes her head as she looks up at him angrily.

“I made a name for myself out here. Hell, I managed to build something here that’s really important to me, I have friends here; you want me to leave all that behind so you can feel like you finally stopped running?”

Her words seem to shake him, his heartbeat beating fast against her own naked chest.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Her eyes cast down, unable to look at him. “I know, but it _is_ what you’re asking from me.”

She could feel him loosen his hold on her and she wonders if it’s a representation of what he’s doing internally too.

“I’m sorry.”

With his hands effectively off her body, she shimmies herself from under the blanket and looks for her clothes scattered all around the floor. His eyes on her still manage to give her goosebumps, but she ignores them in favour of getting herself at least a bit dressed, but decides to settle on just her underwear.

“I don’t know what you want me to do.” She says eventually.

“What I wanted you to do is selfish, I’m sorry.”

She watches him sit up on her couch, pulling the blanket over his naked frame.

“Stop saying that. Stop leaving me.”

It seems like no matter what they do, they will always end up here; on two different sides of the fence, her wanting him and him leaving her.

“I’m not leaving you, Gwen.”

“You are!” She says angrily. “Saying you want me, but only giving me one option to be with you _is_ leaving me.”

He grits his teeth at that. “You say it like it’s a game.”

“Is it?”

Blake’s entire body seems to stiffen at her words. She can tell he's getting pissed again, and quite frankly a bit bitter, and she wonders if they'll ever get to place where anger and bitterness is not the easiest emotion to retract from one another.

“I’ve been here for months, Gwen. Trying to get your attention, to make things right. I sat here giving you space so you could ‘figure things out’ with other people, all because I wanted to be with you…”

“All because you wanted to be with me?” She chuckles sarcastically. “ _I’m sorry_ I didn’t feel like jumping right back in where we left off after you came barging back into my life after twenty-something years. Sorry you had to wait a couple months, it must’ve been hard.”

She feels nauseous at her own words, all the earlier understanding she managed to find for him, flying right out of the window with every spiked comment she throws his way.

“You act like you waited for me all these years”, he says bitterly. “You were married to another guy a year after we broke up… come on now.”

Her eyes widen right before she bends down to scoop her pants and shirt from the ground. She ignores his calls for her as she walks down the hallway, retrieving any missing articles of clothing from there as well before walking back to Blake.

“I’m gonna go take a shower and get dressed and you can— “

“Hey no, don’t walk away right now, Gwen. Talk to me.”

She can see he realizes his mistake as soon as the words escape his lips.

“Oh _now_ you want to talk?”

He doesn’t give her a chance to continue her rant, as he briskly stands up and puts on his own boxers before closing the distance between them, cornering her between his body and the wall, her clothes still hanging over her arm. She's clutching at the fabric in her hands, afraid to look up at him and show her defences already weakening. 

“I think we’ve already established that I made many mistakes.” He starts softly, his proximity maddening. “I pushed the one person I never meant to lose away.”

“And now you’re doing it again.” She states in a whisper, the ache in her chest becoming more and more prominent.

“I’m not doing it again; I’m not leaving you.”

His hand moves up to her face, trying to get her to look at him, but she refuses to do so.

“I can’t come with you.”

He’s standing so close to her she wants to move away but her body won’t seem to corporate. Her eyes drift down to her feet again and she suddenly realizes they’re both still half naked. “I get that you’re tired of running, I get that you’re angry even at how things played out, but that doesn’t give you the right to keep pushing me away.”

“I’m not pushing you away, Gwen. I’m asking you to come with me.”

“And you know I can’t say yes to that. You _knew_ I wouldn’t.”

She returns his gaze and sees the anguish in his eyes. She knows he wants to fight her on it, but she also knows that he’s done lying to her.

“I thought I could stay here for you, even if we wouldn’t be together.” He starts softly. “But I don’t think I can. I don’t have anything here, Gwen. Nothing but you.”

She knows he didn't mean it that way, but her heart still breaks to hear his words. It's amazing how many times the people who claimed to love her, left her in pieces. Her self-worth had always been tied to her ability to make others feel loved, which she seemed to do a pretty lousy job at if she has to believe the many ones who left her. A heart can only get shattered into a disarray of pieces so many times before she loses the ability to pull herself back together again. 

“And it’s not enough…”

“It’s not stable.” He corrects her. “I know how bad I hurt you, I already knew that, but _seeing_ you, seeing the pain I caused....” He shakes his head like he’s physically trying to shake the image out.

She places her hands on his shoulders and she can feel him tense up beneath her touch, obviously not expecting the contact. She wonders if he’s aware of how crazy his transitions are, but she decides not to push it too much. Not right now at least.

“I’ve been through so much shit in the last couple of years Blake, you wouldn’t believe it." Her voice wavers under the strain of the emotion she feels, her heart beating violently against her chest. "I’m okay with fighting for a relationship, but I won’t fight for first place. If you can’t stay here for me, I get that, but in that case— _this_ —can’t be a thing.”

It’s the most straight-forward she knows how to be, and maybe it’s selfish, maybe she’s forcing him into a certain decision, but she can’t keep putting other people’s needs before her own; she has a life here that doesn’t include Blake, she can go back to it even if he decides to leave—she’s gotten accustomed to picking up the pieces of her heart over the years, she’ll be able to do it once more.

She can tell from looking at him that he’s torn and as much as she convinces herself that’s okay, she’s still hurt by it. She watches as he tries to formulate an answer, but his thoughts seem to be as scrambled as hers are, making forming coherent sentences much harder.

“I won’t leave you again.”

She doesn’t say anything, she just stands there as he backs her up against the wall even more, his hands coming to rest on the wall beside her head, his face so close she can feel his breath on her neck. “I’m not leaving you.”

Her hand cups his cheek, her eyes closing as she feels them tear up. “Blake— “

“No.” He interrupts quickly. “You’re right. Back then I fought for myself, let me fight for you now.”

It’s like her inner walls collapse at his words, as they crumble down right in front of her. She tastes the salt of her tears on her lips, some falling down her near naked chest. She fists at the wall behind her for some stability, but all that does is remind her of how much she’s trembling. Blake’s mouth presses down into her hair, whispering sweet nothings against her head, telling her she can hold on to him, he's here now.

“Do you mean it?”

She damn near chokes on the words, but she needs to get them out, needs to hear him say it again.

“Things will be different this time.”

Her hands move away from the wall behind her as she hesitantly throws her arms around his neck and pulls him closer. She feels him hold onto her more firmly and she wants to believe he’ll never let her go again; he’s got her back this time like she always envisioned he would have.

  
*

_She’s been sitting like this for what feels like hours, her hands clamped together on her knees as she convinces herself she’s not doing too bad; she’s still breathing and still has a life to come back to, even after just being shut out of her old one forever. Blake used to tell her every relationship that made you into the person you are today, is worth trying to salvage, but she wonders how he’d feel about that knowing today’s efforts literally knocked the breath out of her._

_She steadies herself enough to get up, and just as she reaches the kitchen to make herself some coffee, she hears the front door fly open. She doesn’t have to look to know he’s dropping his coat over the couch, letting it fall messily over the arm—why he never uses a hanger when he comes in is beyond her but she’s stopped trying to understand._

_“Hi baby.”_

_His low voice is right behind her as he cages her between the counter and his body, the warmth and safety she feels while being wrapped in his arms, a stark contrast to how she was feeling an hour ago._ _She places the coffee pot back while she lets her back melt into his chest more, her head falling back onto his shoulder._

_“You’re just in time, I made us coffee.”_

_He chuckles as he sways her, his force enough to back her away from the counter a bit._

_“Thanks, but I think I’m in the mood for something else, actually.”_

_She lets him love on her for a few minutes without interruption; she woke up without him next to her, which is her least favorite way to start the day, so his desperation for her is not at all unappreciated._

_“Blake...”, she moans softly as his hands wander down to her breast and tease her through the fabric of her shirt._

_He pulls her around and she knows he likes eye contact—always wanting to see exactly how much his touch is affecting her. She’s about to let him take it further when he gently pushes her back against the counter, but instead she flinches at the impact, no matter how soft._

_“Are you okay?” He whispers against her neck, realizing she just jerked into his arms a little._

_Her eyes fill as the memories come flooding back to her, so she just nods and grabs the back of his head, not wanting him to look up from where he’s marking her neck. When he gently pushes again, she gasps and can’t help but to push him away._

_She can’t look at him, so instead she looks at the ground while one hand rubs softly against the sore spot on her back._

_“Shit Gwen, did I hurt you?”_

_His voice is so gentle it almost hurts._

_“You didn’t.” She whispers._

_She can feel his eyes studying the side of her face as he approaches her again and forces her eyes back up to his with a gentle finger to her chin._

_“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” He asks softly, his eyes worried. “Does your back hurt?”_

_She wants to tell him everything; how she tried to make things work for real this time, how badly she wanted to be able to tell him some good news after he’d come home, how much she loves him and wished he could ask her dad for her hand in marriage one day, but instead she lies to the one person she swore she wouldn’t ever do that to._

_“I must’ve pulled something in my sleep. I’m just...” she chokes on her own lie and decides to follow it up with only truths. “It was just a crappy day. I woke up and you were gone already and I just wanted to wake up with you and have some time together in the morning. I feel like I barely see you these days.”_

_He looks at her a bit dazed as he slowly makes sense of the story. “You woke up with your back hurting this bad? Gwen maybe you need to...”_

_She makes a dismissive gesture with her hands as she pretends to be fine. “It’s nothing, Blake. Did you even hear everything else I just said?”_

_With everything else in her life seemingly falling apart, she needs to know she won’t lose Blake._

_“Gwen, I need to work. Unless you want to move back in with Bee and Adam, this is the only way we can keep this place.”_

_She shakes her head. “I know that, Blake. I’m talking about the time you’re not working and you’re still not here.”_

_He squints his eyes at her, but realization clicks soon._

_“Adam and I are working on some music together, he wants to start his own label one day. With his skills and my ear, I think we could really do something here.”_

_She hates to be the one to question his dreams, especially when he lights up talking about them like he does right now._

_“I love that, baby.” She says softly, her hand reaching out for his chest as her fingers slowly trail over the buttons on his shirt. “Music needs you guys.”_

_Her comment causes Blake to smile so widely, she’s almost jealous. “I just need you too.”_

_Her words seem to hit a nerve with him and if she had figured it out right then and there, she could’ve saved herself a world of trouble—but instead she ignored it, smoothed it over with blind optimism._

_“You’ve got me.”_

_She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, the tension of today trying to slip out of her with every breath she takes, Blake’s words exactly what she wanted to hear but his tone worrisome. Unable to keep the frustration at bay, she turns around and pours her coffee into a mug, enjoying the warmth that seeps into her hands._

_“Gwen, I just don’t know what you want from me. We can’t spend every single moment together, you know that, so why are you demanding that from me?”_

_She turns around so quickly, some hot liquid spills from the rim of her glass, the gentle heat from earlier now replaced with the burning sting of hot coffee on her fingers._

_“Fuck!” She whines as she sets the mug down, wiping her hands with the cleaning cloth hanging over the kitchen cabinet._

_“Here, let me help…” Blake offers as he reaches for her hand, but she whisks it away quickly._

_“I got it...” She replies, but Blake doesn’t let up._

_“I’m fine!” She hisses._

_“Jesus, Gwen, you’re acting like a child right now.”_

_Her eyebrows raise at his words._

_“You’re right; I forgot how wanting to spend more time with your boyfriend makes a girl childish. Actually, we should all be like you, right? Find another hobby, get distant, ignore the ones we say we love and only show affection when it suits you.”_

_All her hurt and frustrations seem to bubble over, Blake not being able to give what she needs in this moment enough to shatter that last bit of stability she’s been holding onto._

_“I’m not always going to be here, Gwen, it’s how the damn world works.” His words sound uncharacteristically desperate. “Do you want a boyfriend or a babysitter?”_

_She shudders out a breath then, the sound so shaky and sharp she closes her eyes tightly. She wants to end this conversation, she wants him to wrap her up, hold her close, tell her this is all one big misunderstanding, but instead she opens her eyes to Blake still standing a few feet away, waiting for a response._

_“I want you to be around more. I need you to be around more.”_

_She feels like a broken record, playing the same damn song over and over again._ _He steps closer to her and she waits for the moment he pulls her in—like he always does after they argue, unable to stand the sight of her crying._

_“I love you. Do you believe me when I say that?”_

_His finger traces down her cheek like he’s trying to memorize the feel of her skin._

_“Yeah, but...— “_

_“Don’t waste your tears on me.”_

_His gentle touches don’t match his words at all, they’re spoken fiery and determined, like he’s made a choice for them both—one crucial decision she missed._

_The conversation ends there, nothing necessarily smoothed over but she makes love to him that night like she has something to proof, something to memorize. If anything, she can hold on to the fact tomorrow’s Saturday which means he’ll be there and she’ll do whatever it takes to get them back to that place they were once in._

_When she wakes the next morning while being able to fully stretch out —without one of his limbs draped over hers, is the first warning sign she gets. With tired eyes, she manages to pull herself away from the comfort of her warm sheets, as she moves for the closet. Her hand stills on the many empty hangers she finds; the pit of her stomach turning sour at the sight. She pulls her robe from its hanger and ties it securely around her waist before leaving the bedroom, trying her hardest to ignore the empty- pit feeling._

_“Blake?”_

_She doesn’t get an immediate answer, but she doesn’t need one. As soon as she sets foot in the living room, she’s met with what she’s secretly been dreading since every conscious breath she took this morning._

_His shoes and coats are gone, so are most of his personal belongings she could see from here; the apartment looks like she’s never lived here with anyone else._

_When her eyes fall onto the neatly placed note on the coffee table, she can physically feel her breath hitch. Her head shakes as she reads the one line he scrambled on there, her knees almost giving out as she fists the wall in a desperate attempt to keep standing. No physical pain her father could ever inflict on her would come close to the feeling of being left here by herself by the only men she’d ever trusted._

_She throws the piece of paper as far away from her as possible, watching it fall to the ground a few feet away from her, before crumbling and doing the same. She thinks about how she's been here twice now in the last two days; the image of a beer bottle missing her head by an inch as it shatters on the wall beside her, the face of her father right before he betrays her and leaves her heaving on the kitchen floor, to now being here again after Blake decided he wanted to share his heart with someone other than her._

_His written words “don’t waste your tears on me” almost feel like a cruel punishment—a ‘kick me while I’m down’ sorta thing. She’d laid on the floor doing exactly that, unbothered when dusk fell, not able to honour Blake’s request until she’d physically ran out of tears to waste._


	8. Chapter 8

She moves to switch the heater on as she feels him watch her out of the corner of his eye, her jaw a little tense as she fumbles with the switch. Maybe if she didn’t have her bare legs out in the dead of winter, she wouldn’t need the heat so much, wearing nothing but his oversized t-shirt supposedly a given whenever she’s around him. She knows her inability to sit still and let him simply hold her is solely an effort to dispel the tension between them.

It doesn’t quite work.

“Was he disappointed?” He breaks the silence.

“He gets it.” She says quietly.

“And you?” He uses her diverted attention to prod further. “Were you disappointed?”

She turns around after successfully succeeding at the task at hand, smiling when she hears the connecting click. Her smile slowly subsides as she walks back to the couch, letting his arms wrap around her once more.

“We were never like that.”

She watches the side of his face as he takes in her response. She’s not disappointed that she had to tell Collin off one last time, so she could fully dive into this moment here with him. She _is_ sad to have hurt Collin in some way, because he truly did care for her and even though it wasn’t her intention—she lead him to believe they could be something more than they ever could’ve been.

“Why did he even call you again anyway?” His question is genuine, she knows that, but to an outsider his tone would just be considered cocky, possessive. “I didn’t think he’d ever show his face again after…. well, after that last time.”

“It wasn’t a satisfying way to end things, to say the least.”

“Closure.” Blake mumbles, his voice dropping a full octave.

She just hums, the need for closure an all too familiar one—one she couldn’t deny trying to give Collin.

“I don’t think anyone ever gets that. We’re all just forced to live with the fucked-up shit that happens to us, unless we get lucky enough and someone comes back.”

“Like you did.”

“Gwen, that’s not what— “

“It’s true. You came back and I’m lucky you did.” His eyes flicker at her words, unsure about how to thread further, so she does. “But I still need closure, so your statement isn’t all true.”

He frowns at that.

“I don’t know how to give you that.” He admits after a few silent moments.

“I want to know everything.” She says. “Everything I missed and wasn’t there for—I want to hear it. Then I want to be able to say I accept it.”

“What if you can’t?” He asks hesitantly.

There’s a strange combination of sadness and hope fighting for dominance in her dark brown eyes, and she can tell he can see the moment for what it is. A risk.

A risk he knows he can’t deny her taking.

“Whatever you need.”

She smiles at his words, allowing herself to enjoy in the way his hand tentatively smooths down her neck and shoulders.

“Not now though. Later.”

She knows there’s an incredible amount of water under their bridge and still a lot to talk about before they can start building from a place that’s not rooted in insecurity and resentment—but she’s not sure if she’s capable of hearing certain answers to certain questions without breaking today, so she pushes it aside for a later time, relieved when his response is a simple nod and a kiss to her temple.

“I know it’s hard to take my word for it since I’ve completely disappeared on you—but I’ve missed you. _Really_ missed you.”

She finds herself reluctantly standing up, watching as his hands fall off her body and into his own lap again. She’s walking around, more like pacing, but this time with a bit more of an idea where she’s going. She’s lived with him in the same apartment, but she’s never got to make herself feel comfortable in this one; she’s starting to do that now, hiding away at his place for the weekend before her daily responsibilities start calling for her again.

She looks at him shyly as she looks back to the small drawer underneath the desk in his living room, silently asking for permission. He grants it to her quietly, intent on watching her every move. Her slim fingers open the drawer without hesitation, holding up some scattered papers, old magazines and what she was looking for: a file filled with photographs.

She smiles proudly and he chuckles.

“How did you know?”

She walks back to him, the file clamped between four fingers and shrugs.

“Easy; you’re the most nostalgic person I’ve ever met—if I ever meant anything, you’d have pictures of us somewhere still.”

“How did you know they were there?”

“Locked away and private, but right under your nose. That’s always been your thing.”

She remembers how he would always keep his music away from her while he was working on it, embarrassed to show her before it was finished and superstitious about jinxing his artistry. Considering recent revelations, she wonders how long he kept any medical documents from her while she never bothered to look.

“Touché.”

Her finger traces delicately over the first picture of the bunch, her eyes skimming over Blake’s younger features as he sports a white t-shirt while holding her tightly against his chest, her own body suited into light blue pyjama pants as she recalls the moment in Bee’s apartment. A wave of sadness hitting her at the recollection of also losing her friend.

“That was a fun night.” She whispers.

“That’s an understatement.” His eyes flicker as he takes the trip down memory lane with her. “I remember when they left us alone after that and you got all wild and— “

“—Okay that’s enough.” She cuts in with a fierce blush on her cheeks.

He laughs at that, inhibited and loud; she hadn’t heard that sound in so long, she can feel herself melt into his side even more at the sound and memory of it.

“That’s my favorite picture of you.” He exclaims when she gets to the third one, his hand landing on top of hers to make sure she doesn’t skip over it too fast.

Her eyes squint to really take the picture in, trying but failing to see what he sees.

“Really?”

He nods while tracing the outline of her face on the picture. It’s a shot of her sitting on the trunk of his car, unaware she’s being photographed but ever so graceful. She’s wearing shorts and a baggy black sweater, the two different seasonal items making a great match. One hand is holding a milkshake they got from their favorite place back then, while she simply enjoys the moment of just being there with him, despite the personal hurdles she was dealing with—they’d sit outside for hours and just talk and she’d be perfectly happy, the proof of that all over her features in that picture.

“I look so young there—so carefree.”

He nods again. “You were. I mean, you weren’t, but you were.”

To someone else it wouldn’t have made an ounce of sense, but she gets it and he’s right.

They sit like that for about an hour, just going through pictures and bringing up these good memories that he luckily decided to keep. It’s until she gets to the last picture, that her breath hitches. She’s sure he didn’t mean for that one to end up there, but the result of his mistake feels heavy in her hands.

She can feel Blake tense up beside her, but he doesn’t move to grab it out of her hands, instead he waits to see her reaction.

“This one…” She says, her voice catching.

“Was not supposed to be in there.” He finishes. “Gwen, I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head and narrows her eyes again, like she’s trying to get a closer look.

“Don’t be.”

His illness is not a secret anymore, but the photographic evidence of one of his hospital visits takes her breath away entirely. He’s in what appears to be a hospital gown, his features much less bright, his masculine posterior weakened and much more thin. He wears a smile on his face though, the flash of the camera reflecting in his eyes.

“It was after one of my check-ups, they started to see my state deteriorating here actually. Adam took this picture, he was…”

She looks at him to watch his own eyes filling too.

“He was keeping a photo diary of me in case I wouldn’t make it…”

She feels physically sick hearing him say those words, but nothing prepares her for the feeling she gets when he finishes his sentence.

“For you.”

There’s something even more hurtful at the thought of him not wanting to have her there with him when he obviously never stopped thinking about her; it just seems even more unnecessary.

Yet things also make more sense.

He didn’t want her around to watch him deteriorate, he didn’t want her last memories of him being ones of him in agony—instead he made her a collage of pictures and memories _he_ picked out; ones that wouldn’t hurt so much, ones which weren’t too painful to hold on to. There’s a selflessness there that she missed from him, that’s she’s _known_ from him.

“I don’t know what to say.”

He takes the picture out of her hands then, lowering it to his lap before turning her so she’s looking at him. His eyes are so soft and gentle this time around, leaving no room for anything else.

“You don’t have to say anything”, he starts softly. “I had twenty-three years to process all of this, you’ve had two months.”

She nods gratefully at his words. “You’re still here.”

“So the pictures don’t matter anymore. All that matters is that Adam never had to send them to you.”

She waits a few beats before the need to feel him wins out—she really almost lost him, and the realization seems to just now be truly setting in. She presses her mouth against his, before she’s parting his lips. He reciprocates by drawing her lower lip inward, sucking before releasing it gently.

She wants to savour the feeling for as long as she can, but Blake’s softly backing away, just breathing against her mouth. His palms flatten against her cheek, his fingers weaving through her hair, staring at her like she’s used to from him—full of passion and something only he was ever able to see.

“I shouldn’t have been so hard on you…” She starts.

“Baby, no..”

“I was just so hurt. I couldn’t believe you would leave me like that, but I was young and naïve and I never thought we’d ever have to deal with something so serious…. you could’ve died and I just now realized how scared you must’ve been.”

“I made the wrong choice.” He whispers.

She shakes her head, but he doesn’t care. He drives forward again, his hand trailing down her neck across her collarbone, until his fingers dig into that familiar space on her hips.

“I was so scared to become a burden to you, I couldn’t stick around to watch all that love you had for me turn into an obligation.”

He whispers the words against her cheek when he breaks away to catch his breath. He moves her gently onto her back as he moves above her, his chest skimming the peaks of her nipples through the t-shirt she wears. He uses his flat hand to pry open her thighs before moving in between them and settling downward. A moan gets stuck in the back of her throat, his slow movements providing as much pleasure as it does torture.

“That would never have happened.” She breathes.

He kisses her again.

“I know that now. I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t want to hear any more apologies, so instead she leans up into his space trying to catch his lips again, but he pulls back to prevent that from being a possibility.

“I hurt you.”

The words are spoken briskly in the fog of desire that hangs between them. On his own time, he lets her catch his mouth in another kiss, his tongue pressing between her lips and muffling her moans. He moves his thigh forward against her core and smiles against her lips as she whimpers.

Her hands come up to hold his cheeks as he starts to softly, but steadily, rock into her. She has to pull her lips away breathlessly as his name is the only thing she’s capable of producing, his teeth nipping at her lip in response each time.

“I’m gonna do it right this time, babygirl”, he murmurs against her lips, her breath hitching at another deliberate thrust against her core. “ _All of it_.”

She can’t answer him with words, instead she throws her head back as she gets ready to let go. She sucks in a breath as his mouth hovers over her ear, whispering gentle encouragements as he occasionally nibs at her lobe.

*

_“You never told me.” She says softly._

_His fingers draw lazily over her sleeve, so mindlessly she doesn’t think he even knows he’s doing it._

_“Never thought it’d matter.”_

_It’s when he says stuff like this, that she realizes how much his past has affected him. He’s everything positive in the world; talented, kind, honest and exciting—but there is this whole layer there not many get to see. A layer of heartache, grief, detachment. She prides herself for getting to see both sides; both leave her breathless, both make for the person she loves and adores so much._

_“You can’t mean that.”_

_He nods. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”_

_The first time he told her about the loss of his brother, she’d cried with him for hours, stroking softly over his cheek to let him know she was there with him, until they were both breathless and cried out. The pain Blake felt at his death was perfectly clear—whoever, his crippling guilt about it, was not._

_“Baby, it’s not your fault….”_

_“….. I know what you’re gonna say, and I’m gonna need you to not say it.”_

_He doesn’t interrupt her often, so she’s taken aback for a second before aligning her gaze with his. His lip curl into a soft smile, the one he’d use whenever he was smiling to drown the ache out of his chest._

_“I was an ass the day he walked out—he wouldn’t have gotten into his car if it weren’t for me. He sure as hell wouldn’t have gotten into an accident.” His voice is low and gravely, the hurt dripping from each syllable. “He’d still be here, Gwen.”_

_“You didn’t drive him off the road, Blake.”_

_He doesn’t talk about this too much and she’s unsure about how much she can push him. What she does know, is that she can’t sit back and let him blame himself for something that couldn’t have been more out of his hands._

_“My parents will mourn this loss for the rest of their lives, that’s all I know for sure. All I can do is make sure I make them proud every day I get to live on this Earth.”_

_She tentatively reaches out for his arm and he understands immediately. His arm reaches around her small frame, pulling her closer as she feels him inhale the scent of her hair._

_“Making them proud doesn’t mean that you can’t show weakness. You don’t always have to be strong for them.”_

_“It’s the least I can do. Besides, I like being strong for them…” there’s a magnetic pull whenever he’s around, she’s sure, cause she can feel herself melt into him more with each second. “I like being strong for you.”_

_“You know you don’t have to do that with me.” She says in barely a whisper, her voice hoarse from emotion. “There’s nothing wrong with letting people take care of you sometimes.”_

_“Maybe one day.” He jokes as his hands start to feel her up, his subtle way of ending a conversation._

_“You’re impossible.” She murmurs lowly, watching the blue of his eyes flirt with darkness._

_He repositions her into his lap with a chuckle, as he cups her face and leans in without a warning, her own hands squeezing tightly at his shoulders. She’ll never get used to how his mouth is always so attentive, tending to hers with reverence before he sucks her bottom lip inside, caressing her with his tongue._

_She gives in completely as she lets him derail them from their conversation, but makes sure to make a mental note to somehow ease his guilt over the years. A guilt that should never have been his to begin with. A guilt that she won’t allow to take more from him than it already has._


	9. Chapter 9

It’s almost too easy. She doesn’t say anything as he allows himself to brush his hand over her bare arm repeatedly, making sure to leave a bunch of goosebumps in its wake. She knows he won’t keep going like this for too long, the need of touching her more indefinitely always winning over anything else. She’s proven to be right when he steps closer and connects his large torso with her back. Pressed between the kitchen counter and his body, she feels small yet safe. He lowers his head to kiss the curve between her arm and right shoulder, his lips starting a wet trail of kisses down her shoulder and back up to the column of her neck. She’s still not saying anything, but her breaths are audible as her head falls back to rest against him. The little tilt towards him gives him all the access he needs as his fingers thread lightly in her hair and keeps her where he wants her.

A moan escapes her lips involuntarily.

She hasn’t done anything else but make out and stay in his t-shirt ever since she set foot in his apartment yesterday morning. With dusk knocking on their door, she’s officially been in his attire for over thirty-six hours and she’s totally okay with that. Blake seems to not have any trouble with it either, as she feels his right-hand wander inside the fabric of his own shirt on her, tracing his fingers softly across the bare skin he finds. While his mouth proceeds to kiss down her collarbone, his lips taunting and his tongue licking her nape, she shudders out a weak version of his name.

She feels like she’s in a daze; she doesn’t think, she only senses and feels as she lets him explore her body like he hasn’t been able to do so for decades.

_He hasn’t._

Somewhere in the back of her mind she realizes she wants to turn around—she wants his mouth on hers, she wants to be filled with his taste and smell. When his growing hardness grazes her from behind, she tries to shift but he deliberately keeps her still, denying her the motion of turning around. He kisses her exposed throat when she tilts her head back. She brings her right hand over to his head, pressing his mouth further into her, her nails scraping his wild curls.

She physically can’t withstand his torture any longer when his thumb swipes across her erect nipple and she pushes against his hold, trying to get him to budge. He grants her some leeway and she takes the opportunity to finally turn around, his blue eyes as dark as they get. She bites her lip before leaning in, but instead of meeting her halfway his hand cups her chin as she barely manages to graze his lips.

She groans out her frustration.

“Blake...”

“Shhhh.”

Her palm twitches with the urge to slap him from making her wait for it so long, like they haven’t wasted enough time as it is, but she stays still, her curiosity getting the best of her. She gets no warning before his mouth lands on hers, before his mouth completely devours her, unable to think of anything else but this. Everything else dissipates when it comes down to this; his mouth on her, his body against hers—it’s Blake. It’s always Blake. _Only Blake._

The buzz in her head becomes as liquid as the heat between her legs, and when Blake’s hand wanders down to her ass and pins her pelvis to his as she can feel his erection pressing into her, there’s nothing she can do to prevent herself from moaning into his mouth. She’s a bit embarrassed as she’s literally grinding against him, looking for more contact.

They both jump at the sound of the doorbell ringing, her gasping mouth against him now gasping for completely different reasons.

“Jesus.” She huffs.

Blake’s hand soothingly combs through her hair, pressing his lips against her temple as he reluctantly starts to pull away.

“Please don’t. Let them ring.” She gives him her best pout, her arms bringing him back against her, shaking her head furiously.

“Anyone ever told you how cute you are when you pout?”

She chuckles lowly. “No, but I can do it for you as many times as you want. Kiss me again.”

Her heart feels like it grows twice its size as she manages to convince him with little to no effort, his mouth hot and needy against hers once more, as his lips and tongue continue to consume her. It’s about three seconds later when the doorbell rings again, a few more seconds before the next. His forehead rests against hers apologetically.

“Sorry baby.”

She pushes away, immediately missing his warmth as she wraps two arms around herself. Blake doesn’t seem much happier about the interruption as he walks toward the door, ready to dismiss whoever is at the door, demanding attention.

“You gotta have the worst timing in the history of—” His voice trails off as the door swings open, his change in posture alarming.

“Blake, you okay?”

She walks closer to him, partially to offer him some support and partially because his body is currently blocking the view of whoever is standing in the doorway.

“Blake?”

Her hand lands on top of his bicep, squeezing gently as she forces her way next to him. Her fingernails dig painfully in the palm of her hands, her jaw clenching violently as she takes in the man before her. He was still handsome as ever, but you could tell he’d lived some life—a life alongside Blake that she got deprived of.

“Adam, what are you doing here?”

Blake almost sounds pained, the confrontation of his ex-girlfriend and best friend not one he anticipated or saw coming this quickly and unprepared.

Gwen’s heart is beating out of her chest and before either one of the men around her can address her, she retrieves further back into Blake’s apartment. She hears Blake whisper at his friend, but she can’t make out the words. She slumps back against the bedroom door, isolating herself from the other people in the apartment.

She’s breathing but the air won’t go into her lungs, the rising panic making her dizzy. Seeing Adam after twenty something years hurts almost as much as seeing Blake again for the first time. Blake had made the decision to leave her, Adam decided to help him do it.

“Gwen?”

She hears Blake call out her name in a soft whisper, his hands reaching out for her but she shakes her head no.

“Not now.” She hisses.

She doesn’t know where this anger is coming from all the sudden, but she can’t stand the idea of Adam being here or Blake even letting him in. The walls feel like they’re closing in on her, every intake of breath hurting her chest.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t know he was coming. I promise you.”

“Is he inside?”

Blake hums hesitantly.

“This is our time. He got twenty-three years with you, he should let me have this.”

“Gwen, he didn't know...”, he steps closer to her again, ignoring her little whimper of protest. “It’s not his fault.”

“Do you know I went over there after I picked myself up after reading your note?” She starts softly, her eyes filling with moisture at the memories. “I begged him, Blake. _Begged_ him to tell me where you were.”

Blake shakes his head softly. “Gwen, I’m so sorry. He was just doing what I asked him to.”

“They were not just your friends, Blake—they were mine too!”

“I know that.” His voice sounds as desperate as he looks.

“Obviously, I was wrong. Not only did he not proceed to tell me where you were, he didn’t tell me you were sick, not ever. What, he was gonna send me a collage of you _after_ you’d passed? That’s real easy of him, Blake.”

“Nothing was ever easy about any of it.”

His voice is so stern; she has to look away when he moves to stand in front of her.

“I should just go.” She says, sidestepping him as she tries to create some distance between them.

“You could do that”, Blake agrees. “Or you could come out there with me and face him. Work on the things you said you would. For me. For us.”

“Why does everything always have to be on your terms? What if I’m just not ready?”

“So you’re just gonna ru—”He cuts himself off before he could finish the statement that would’ve undoubtedly send her in into a frenzy.

She’s looking at him so intensely she can feel her heart rate spiking again.

“Please.” He pleads with her. “Don’t go.”

She narrows her eyes before caving, but she doesn’t give him any warning as she rushes out of the hallway, into the living room. She comes in ready to argue—give him every little piece of her mind, but seeing him on the couch, Blake’s couch, is such a familiar yet staggering image, she can’t think of anything else to say.

She succumbs to the sadness she feels a moment later, as the tears stream down her face. Words fail her, but she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about Adam approaching her either, until his arms wrap around her and he’s whispering his apologies into the quiet room. She lets him hold her, despite the urge to push him away or slap him, despite the fact that Blake’s watching them from the far corner.

“I know it probably means nothing, but keeping this from you was the hardest thing both of us ever had to do.”

Adam’s voice, as sincere as it sounds, eventually sets her off.

“You knew me for years, I lived at your place, you wanna talk about what’s hard to do? What’s hard to do is to keep going after every single person you’ve ever trusted leaves you. I don’t want to hear about how hard it was for you to keep living your perfect life, surrounded with everyone you loved. You didn’t have the decency to tell me anything as I was standing on your doorstep completely broken.”

“Gwen.”

Her name leaves Blake’s lips in warning.

“At the time, this is what he wanted to do. I wanted to tell you, but there was a big chance he wouldn’t get to see the beginning of the following year. As much as I loved you, I couldn’t deny him this.”

“You _wouldn’t_ deny him this.” She corrects.

“What would you have done?” Adam retorts.

It’s the same thing Blake has asked her before, and she can’t help the bitter sound that comes out in the form of a chuckle. They have always been two peas in a pod; different entirely but somehow wrapped in the same person.

“I wouldn’t have let him cut you out of his life like that.”

She can physically feel the air around them change as Blake walks closer, closing her eyes as she feels him coming up behind her. The feeling of his hands on her shoulder isn’t surprising, but it hurts nonetheless. She’s torn between wanting him to wrap her up in his arms or tell her to go; knowing she won’t have the psychical strength to walk out on him after everything that happened, everything that lead them here.

“Please breathe Gwen.” He says the words so gently she starts crying at the sound of it; her tears barely dried on her cheeks from the last time.

It feels like an eternity before they all settle down on the couch, Blake holding her as close as possible while Adam sits across from them on one of the leather stools. She can’t get herself to look at either one of them, her eyes burning from the moisture that collects there and one hand involuntarily holding onto Blake’s thigh to keep herself grounded.

“Seriously man, not that I don’t like you around, but why are you here?”

Blake’s voice cuts through the silence, but she still doesn’t look up. 

“Well, since you decided to ignore my phone calls, I figured I’d make the trip out here myself.”

There's a moment of sincere worry on Blake's face. “Everything alright with Bee?”

Adam’s voice hits a pitch higher as the meaning of Blake’s question hits. “Oh yeah, no she’s great.”

She can feel Blake release a relieved sigh at his answer, sinking a bit further back into the couch cushions. She’s still fighting the urge to scream or punch someone, the ache settling into the depths of her bones so intense, she feels like she can’t move. Her chest is tight as she takes a few deep breathes in, concentrating on somewhat keeping it together as she’s tightly pressed against Blake’s side.

“I want to talk to you about LA.”

Adam had said the words so casually, she almost let it slide. _Almost_. Her ears peak as she takes in his words, her eyes finally casting up to both men. From the corner of her eye, she can see Blake looking panicked; a pink flush colouring his features as his eyes plea for his best friend to drop the subject immediately.

She won’t let him.

“Adam, not now.” Blake’s words are firm and determined, but his facial features tell a completely different story. She watches as a certain recognition seems to dawn over Adam and she hates feeling like she’s once again being kept out of the loop on something.

“What is he talking about?” Gwen asks as she turns to Blake, even though the question is directed to both.

Blake turns his head away, looking at his friend with a desperation-laced look. Adam rubs the back of his neck in response.

“I thought you’d told her.”

She felt the air rush out of her body once more, trying to catch her breath became increasingly harder and she’s starting to feel that rage in the pit of her stomach, bubbling up like a volcano that’s about to burst.

“Told me _what_? Blake, I swear to God…”

Something about her tone of voice must’ve unleashed something within him, because he faces her now, both of his hands reaching out for hers. “I told you I’m staying here with you, Gwen. That’s the truth.”

Adam shakes his head bewilderedly, like the statement came as a surprise to him.

“You got to be kidding me!” Adam began.

“Adam.” Blake damn near hisses his name and if she weren’t so angry, she probably would’ve flinched at it. “Give us a second, please.”

She can tell the request is physically hurting Adam, but he reluctantly gets up from his chair and walks over to the kitchen era, giving them some space. She keeps her gaze on Adam, unable to look at Blake—unable to keep the horrible memories and crippling fears at bay. Somehow Blake will always manage to catch her off-guard, to drop a bombshell on her when things are finally getting good. It’s like he somehow convinces himself that he’s not worth the commitment, that he doesn’t deserve happiness.

It’s almost inevitable that at this rate, she’ll eventually leave and proof his point.

“Gwen?”

He calls out for her as he realizes she’s zoning out and it takes her a while to acknowledge him. When she does, it’s with glossy eyes and a dry throat.

“Please tell me you haven’t been lying to me again.”

He shakes his head, his own eyes filling too and it’s almost ironic: he tries so hard to guard himself, to not get hurt, yet he manages to find a way to still hurt both. 

“Miranda is pregnant.”

Her lips press tightly together, her eyes widening in shock as she can’t seem to make sense of any of it. She opens her mouth to talk, but the words get caught in the back of her throat. She watches Blake as he struggles with words himself, his inability to form words proof of his own pain and embarrassment. 

“She told me right after I’d left LA, but we didn’t know if it was mine. We weren’t exactly exclusive when it happened and she didn’t do a test yet.”

She shakes her head. “You said you two were divorced…”

“We are.” He exclaims desperately. “We were divorced for about a month when it happened, I ran into her again and we made a stupid mistake.”

She feels like throwing up. There’s so much she wants to say, but nothing comes out. She can’t even blame him for slipping up and hooking up with his ex after the divorce—lord knows how many times she had to fight the urge to do so herself. It’s the fact that he didn’t come clean right away, the fact that he kept something from her again and only let her find out on his terms—or Adam’s—and is leaving her with yet another secret to cope with.

“So it’s yours?”

She knows that his initial reaction to get back to LA was enough of an answer already, but she needs to say _something_. 

“She told me that night I accidentally barged in on you and Collin.”

The way he pronounces his name shows her there’s still a bit of sourness there, but she ignores it wholeheartedly. It feels surreal to hear him say those words, to hear him talk about another woman and the life he created with her. When she looks up at him, his eyes are filled with emotion so powerfully it takes her breath away entirely.

“She’s in a relationship of her own now, she doesn’t want me to be around for the pregnancy necessarily, but I figured I should be there regardless. It is my kid.”

There’s a shimmer of relief that courses through her at the fact he’s willing to step up; wanting to be there for his child no matter what he and the mom are going through. Most of her body fills with a hallowing sadness at the fact that another woman is living her dream by accident.

“So you can’t stay here.” She says dryly, almost deprived of any emotion.

“I can.” He argues. “I’ll fly back and forth, I was going to do that with Adam and Behati, I can do it for her and the baby.”

“You’re about to have a kid, Blake! You’re just gonna keep flying back and forth forever?" She raises her eyebrows in mockery, anger taking over once again at his desperate attempt at salvaging a bit of her heart. "What are you gonna do when the baby gets born?”

Blake seems to have had developed a grimace for whenever he was hurting and trying to keep it together. “She’s only three months in, Gwen. There’s time to figure that out.”

She snorts. “You’re actually impossible!”

She’s on her feet in the next second, catching Adam looking at her from where he’s rested against the kitchen counter, a sympathetic look on his face. The pain of losing him time and time again wraps around her so tightly, by the time she speaks up she's feeling numb to it all.

“And when were you gonna tell me by the way? You were just gonna raise this child secretively without me ever knowing?”

“Ofcourse not.”

While her voice gets calmer, his seems to pick up in its intensity. 

“Then when?”

“I was gonna tell you this weekend, I just…”

“You just what?”

He looks over at his friend, before walking closer to her and lowering his voice. “You got so mad when I brought up leaving the other day, I just wanted to give you this weekend before I brought it up again. I don’t want to be the cause of your pain anymore, Gwen.”

“When are you gonna realize that keeping things from me is not gonna protect me from feeling pain. It’s what’s hurting me in the first place.”

He steps forward again, his chest almost touching hers. “I’m sorry.”

She sighs dramatically, her hands pushing at his chest for more space.  “You can’t stay here.” She says then. “It’s not right. You should go.”

For the first time in about ten minutes, Adam emerges from the kitchen and walks closer, apparently done giving them space. It doesn’t matter anyways, there’s nothing he doesn’t know yet—unlike her, he’s always been Blake’s go-to person.

“She’s right, you know”, Adam’s hand lands supportively on Blake’s shoulder. “She might say she doesn’t want you around, but you’re not gonna wanna miss this. I don’t think you should add another lifetime of regret to your list.”

_Another lifetime of regret._

Adam’s words hit her hard, even though she tries her best to conceal it. Blake has always been a very complex being; to outsiders he might seem like he’s easy to read, easy to deal with, but his many layers and personal demons have always made for a mixture of desirable darkness and moments of impossible detachment. She doesn’t want to punish Blake for choosing his unborn child over her, but she can’t find stable footing with someone who keeps insisting on pulling the rug from under her.

“You should listen to him.” She whispers.

She tries to tell him with her eyes what her mouth can’t and she can visibly see his heart breaking. Breaking his own heart is probably more familiar to him at this point than _she_ is.

“I want to go back, Gwen. With you.”

His gaze rises to meet hers, holding her captive with those deep blue eyes that make her feel like she’s drowning—this time for real. Her heart is pounding too fast, an unpleasant rhythm beating against her ribs, her stomach tightening into a knot.

“Maybe this is all we’re supposed to get.” She cries softly, her head lowering so she doesn’t have to face both Adam and Blake looking at her. Even when Adam steps back again, excusing himself with the excuse of needing to pee, she doesn’t meet Blake’s eyes. “Maybe this weekend with you was meant to suffice as our closure.”

His fingertips dig into both sides of her hip, this time not allowing her to push him away. “It’s been twenty-three years and we’re still in love with each other. Gwen, if closure is what we wanted, what we needed, we would’ve had it by now.”

She shakes her head in denial.

“Yeah.” He reaffirms, his hold on her tight. “I’ve lost you once, I actually lost you about a million times in my head, I won’t lose you again.”

“You can’t say these things and then— “

“I mean it, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this right away, I just didn’t know when the right time to tell you was. I’m not trying to push you away again.”

She wants to cling to him just as much as she wants to run away. She wants to curl up in a little ball as much as she wants to tangle and melt into one with him on the couch, in his bed. She wants to dig her fingers into his skin as much as she wants to use her hands to push him away.

She doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know what she wants.

In one last attempt to save her heart from the possibility of more ache, she says what her heart begins to protest from the moment she opens her mouth, speaking the words with both nothing and everything to lose.

“You should go back to LA with Adam, Blake." She can see the fear in his eyes as he understands where she's going with this. "Alone.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OK, so a little warning: this chapter is super heavy. I wanted to put it all in this one, so I can start steering them into a more positive direction quicker. Needless to say, Blake is going to have a hard time with things after this chapter still, but he might find it a bit easier to let Gwen be at his side throughout it. I hope you guys bear with me (and please don't hate me too much).
> 
> Special thanks to Jo, Bea, Doreen and Zoe. For always inspiring me and motivating me to post.

“Go away.” Her voice is raspy due to the crying and drinking, her throat feeling dry and sore, as her eyes struggle to adjust to the morning light. She’s not one for drinking, certainly not as a coping mechanism, but tonight she just didn’t care.

“It’s me, Adam.”

She falters for a second, not expecting it to be him banging on her door—way too loudly, might she add. Her head is already pounding, the forming hangover already teasing her with what’s to come in the morning. She wants to yell at him again, tell him to go, but something tells her he isn’t going to comply anyways. She stares at the ceiling as she feels the rawness of her feelings slam into her once more; the heartbreak of losing him again and the anxiety of why Adam’s at the door and not him.

“I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to, but please let me in, Gwen.”

She figures Blake must’ve given Adam her address, which makes her even more confused; why send Adam if _he_ wants to check up on her? She also realizes she probably wouldn’t have let Blake in if he _did_ show up here, making sending Adam his best option.

The piercing smell of booze and liqueur feels like it’s pouring off her skin, her hands clammy as she uses the wall behind her to pull herself up. She struggles with her balance a little, the earth feeling like it’s rocking beneath her. It’s with the most discomfort that she eventually opens the door to a worried-looking Adam.

“I’m not in the mood to talk.” She slurs without so much at glancing at him.

He doesn’t say anything. She can hear the door close behind her and the light switch being flicked as the room suddenly illuminates in a dark yellow glow. She squints her eyes together, shooting him a dangerous look.

Without words, he points at the kitchen table and she’s too tired and quite frankly, too drunk to put up much more of a fight. Her body feels heavy as she melts into the kitchen stool, her arms folding onto the counter as she rests her head on them.

“Glasses?” Adam asks softly, not enough volume to contribute to her headache.

“Cabinet above the sink.”

Her speech might be a bit impaired, but her brain is still very much active and alive as memories of her staying at Adam’s place hit her like a tidal wave; he made her feel welcome from the very first moment she set foot in his house, making it a safe- haven when her own home couldn’t be. He’s always been a confident guy, but there was a gentleness there that had drawn Blake to him and warmed Gwen up to him just as quickly. He really did use to be her friend. She tries to block out the memory of his abandonment when he offers her a glass with water, mustering a painful smile and nod as a silent thank you.

He sits across from her in silence as she occasionally sips at her water, the feeling of the cold water going down her pained throat far from unpleasant. If she weren’t too unstable to go get herself a refill, she would’ve downed the content in one big gulp. Occasionally her eyes will wander towards Adam, realizing he must have a million thoughts racing through his mind as well—this situation just as uncomfortable yet significant for the both of them.

“Where’s Blake?” She whispers, the fragility of her voice making her want to throw up.

“Packing.”

She sniffs once, a quiet sob wracking through her body. “Figures.”

“He doesn’t want to leave you, Gwen.”

In a way, it doesn’t matter anymore what he wanted, it didn’t matter what she wanted either—they were never gonna get it.

“And he sent you to convince me of that, didn’t he?”

“He actually asked me to not bring it up.”

The pity in his eyes makes her want to close hers, but she locks their gaze for as long as he allows it. Her thumb begins to swipe back and forth across her palm, forcing her to lift her head a bit as she sits up. Her other hand tracing the rim of her glass.

“He’s worried about you. Said that he’s never seen you as numb as you looked when you left the apartment earlier.”

That sets her aflame—and it’s not because he’s wrong, it’s because he’s not. She knows Blake feels bad for breaking her heart again, she even believes he’s probably going out of his mind with worry right now—she also knows he’s always sorry, sorry for all the times he’s hurt her, yet he can’t make any of his actions speak louder than his words. None of it matters when their relationship seems to be this mystery they can’t solve; they found a perfect rhythm this weekend without having one at all. They’re pushing and pulling and wounding and healing, making so much progress while getting nowhere.

Sarcasm stains her words when she replies.

“And you just had to check up on me. As my _friend_ , and all.”

He has the audacity to nod at that, not once looking away. “He can barely live with himself, knowing the pain he’s caused you. I’m not saying you should forgive him, I’m not even saying you should get back with him. But you’re not the only one who got hurt here—he’s never been the same after everything that happened.”

A wave of nausea comes over her at Adam’s words, or maybe it’s the alcohol that’s overloading her system, but she swallows down some more water in hopes of pushing it back down.

“Neither have I. I would never hurt him like this.” She shudders out. “ _And you_ ….”

Her voice trails off, choking up as she addresses her long-lost friend. She clears her throat and looks at him with an indifferent look on her face, soaking in the sight of Adam drowning in his own guilt—keeping a secret that big from someone so much easier when it’s done over distance.

“I don’t even feel like I know you anymore.” Is what she eventually settles on saying.

He nods in understanding, his eyes casting down. “I don’t expect you to feel any differently. I just couldn’t _not_ show up here.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Like you’re fine right now?”

She makes it a task not let her breath hitch, her eye contact not faltering one bit, even managing at lifting her lips upward in the making of a polite smile—as if he had comforted her instead of reading her like a book.

“He’s lying to me again.”

Adam keeps quiet at that, can’t really say much either, because he knows she’s right. He looks at her with what can only be described as painfulness—a hint of hesitation on his face as he’s obviously pondering on saying something, but decides against it a bunch of times. Until he doesn’t.

“Has he told you about Miranda yet?”

That makes her look up at him, her eyebrows raising slightly. She has the urge to just tell him yes, not thinking she can survive being blindsides once more, but she also knows this is different: she hasn’t told Blake about everything she’s been through with Gavin either, plus Blake lost all rights to ask about her ex-husband, something Blake seemed to get as he never pushed for much when it came to their relationship. Maybe he doesn’t like to hear about another man living the life he threw away.

Remembering Adam’s question, she decides to go with the truth.

“He said they were married and she cheated on him.”

Adam nods. “But did he tell you about their marriage, their relationship?”

There’s something about the tone of his voice that doesn’t sit right with her, his face suddenly overcome with sadness, maybe even anger.

“He doesn’t really say much about his life back in LA.” She eventually admits.

Adam sits up a bit more, rubbing the back of his neck. “Miranda is a singer slash songwriter he came across one day and started working with. They’d write songs together and I’d buy them to lent them to artist on my label. They made a good team for a while…”

It’s weird and a bit painful to hear about Blake’s connection with another woman, but she hangs onto his words for dear life, urging him to go on with a desperate look.

“Writing was all they had in common though.” Adam continues. “There was nothing else there, she knew that—he didn’t.”

“Are you saying you understand why she stepped out on him?”

“I’m saying she was never loyal to begin with. They wrote together, things got intense and heated and they started sleeping together. He was determined to make it work this time, to not let anything ruin this like he’d ruined something before.”

 _Like_ _he_ _ruined_ _them_. The words go unspoken, but they ring loudly in her ears.

“Did he know she was unfaithful before?”

“Technically not, but we all had our suspicions. Bee and I told him to break things off with her countless of times. She had him wrapped around her finger, playing into his guilt perfectly. Somehow convincing him that this was all he deserved; I think in a messed-up way, he felt like it was the punishment he deserved after breaking your heart like he did. Like he didn’t deserve happiness after that.”

She whisks away a couple of tears, keeping quiet in case Adam wasn’t done yet. The way heartbreak seems to take her breath away, shows her she’s not nearly numb enough.

“It was just a bad relationship. She’d cuss him out one day, then be all over him the next. It’s like walking on a wire every day, never knowing when the final push will be given and pushes you over.”

Familiarity reaches her before she can stop it, the similarity of that feeling running through her veins until she’s trembling with it. She meets Adam’s eyes and she can tell he can see the flush on her cheeks exactly for what it is.

“He’s doing the same thing to you now.” He says softly. “Gwen, you have every right to walk away, most people would probably say that you should.”

She can hear the sincerity in his voice as he says it—this is not him giving some misplaced permission, this is him admitting to the failures of his friend, no matter the level of understanding Adam can muster up for him; this is Adam looking out for _her_ for a change.

“I can see why Blake let her in; music, writing, passion—it’s all he’s ever wanted.”

Blake’s love for music is what kept him sane all these years before she met him and then after. It’s what reignited his excitement for life and love; everything was always so entangled with his musicality; it makes all the sense in the world to her that he would fall for someone like her.

“I’m serious, song writing was the only truly beautiful thing between them”, Adam interrupts her internal monologue. “That’s why after the divorce, he got stuck, couldn’t write for anyone anymore.”

“So he slept with her again.”

“They were both pretty honest about it being a mistake. I told him maybe he needed a new scenery, a place where he could breathe some fresh air. I didn’t think he’d pick New York, though.”

“Now he has to raise a child with this woman.”

She suddenly feels so bad for Blake. After everything he’s been through, he deserves to live life like he was supposed to live it from the start; carefree, free of all burdens of guilt—whether due to heartbreak or his brother’s passing—and most importantly, with her.

“He needs to go back. She’s stolen enough years from him as it is, missing out on her pregnancy will just be another thing that will haunt him.”

As much as she wants him to stay, she knows he’s right: he needs to be there for that journey, he needs to be able to look his future child in the eyes and say he’s been there from the start.

“Is he scared?”

“Terrified.”

She looks away, shoulders hunching a bit. “He should’ve told me.”

“Hey Gwen?” She meets his eyes as he softly nudges her with his words, seeing the apology in his eyes before he utters it. “I know it doesn’t make it right, not by a long shot, but that night you showed up at my doorstep…. I almost told you. I wanted to, you deserved to know the truth.”

She smiles faintly. “ _I know._ ”

She does know. Every moment she spent with Adam and Behati couldn’t have been fake, she won’t allow herself to think that. There’s so much she will never understand, but with her life falling apart and Adam sitting in front of her in her kitchen, she realizes things aren’t as unfamiliar as she thought they were. She’s used to being able to talk to him, even now, when she’s unsure about wanting his presence, there’s a big part there that does.

“I can’t imagine Bee leaving like that, or someone leaving Dusty like that in the future. I’d kill the bastard.”

Her eyes widen suddenly and Adam realizes why, answering before she can even ask the question.

His eyes light up suddenly, a great sense of admiration and love settles in the depths of them. “She’s four now. Blake’s great with her, he’ll be great with one of his own.”

She feels the burn in the pit of her stomach, her brain screaming at her that it should’ve been hers, the child should’ve been _theirs_. Her heart thumps in her chest as she moves a fraction forward, balancing her arms on the counter in front of her.

“Yeah, he’ll be great.” She whispers. “I’m so happy for you and Bee, I bet she’s just the cutest thing.”

“You should come see her sometime.”

She just nods. She still wants Blake. She still wants a family of her own. She wants to meet Adam’s little one. She just doesn’t know if she still can.

“Yeah…”

Adam seems to sense the pain attached to her tone of voice, as he reaches out his hand as it lands on hers, squeezing comfortably. She’s surprised to realize her first instinct isn’t to pull away.

“You don’t have to hide that from me, you know?”

She shakes her head, like the thought of voicing her inner truths were the worst thing she could do.

“I’m happy for you, I really am and I would like nothing more but to see her one day. It’s just Blake…”

“It’s not fair.” Adam fills in for her, a feeling of gratitude coursing through her now he’s said it for her.

“I don’t think I can watch him raise her.” She admits as the tears stream down her face once more.

“You don’t have to. You don’t owe him anything.”

Adam’s words were honest, the type of honesty she’s missed from him. Not just now, but all these years.

“But I want to.”

That’s her own honesty at its peak. She will never stop wanting to see Blake succeed in life, have him be the one she wakes up to, no matter where that is.

Her choices are not about what she wants anymore.

Her brow furrows as she considers everyone she’s lost over the years and everything she still stands to lose in the coming hours; if she somehow survives all this, she owes her heart the biggest apology.

Her head starts painfully throbbing again, making her aware of her still intoxicated state. When she starts rubbing her forehead every two minutes, Adam finally speaks up.

“You should get some rest.”

She shakes her head, ignoring the hurt it causes. “But Blake…”

“He won’t leave until he hears from you.”

It’s a statement she can’t afford herself to believe, but her throat feels like it’s on fire and she swears she can hear her warm bedsheets calling out for her. Giving Adam one last desperate look, he nods in reassurance once more, holding his arms out for her to stabilize herself on. She decides that sleep is a chance she’ll have to take, the repercussions something she’ll face tomorrow.

*

Letting him go the next day had felt like shipping off her hopes and dreams to a place she’d never find them again, desperately fighting the drowning feeling it brought along with it. Even though she told him it wasn’t officially a “break up”, she made sure to tell him not to get his hopes up— she couldn’t come with him, not now at least. They weren’t even technically back together again, they just spent a weekend pretending to be, until real life called and catapulted them back into what they’ve always been; something undefined and unfinished.

Blake had held her hand, rubbing tired circles on her skin with his thumb. He didn’t say much, just listened. He didn’t fight her on it, nor did he ask for any favours. The hurt in his eyes was undeniable though, despite his gentle smile trying to disguise it. She’d almost wished he would say something out of place, do something infuriating so she wouldn’t feel so bad for making him leave alone. But he made his bed. It’s okay for her to let him lay in it. Even if she really wants to lay there with him.

It’s two weeks later when she gets the frantic phone call— a call she almost denied when she saw his name pop up. A mutual agreement to give each other space. His voice was like a broken whisper when he addressed her, her ears working overtime to catch what he was saying. She couldn’t make out all of it, his breath hitching and quiet sobs interrupting his speech. She tried to soothe him the best she could over the phone, without any information that explained his state.

It was the soft and broken “it didn’t make it” that had her upright within seconds.

It wasn’t often that she witnessed Blake broken down like that; the only time he’d really lost it was at the last anniversary of his brother’s passing they spent together. She had held him for what must’ve been at least three hours, pressing gentle kisses against temple while he arched into her touch like it was the only thing keeping him alive. This moment right here over the phone is different in many ways, but also shockingly the same; he’s totally open with her, his emotions right there at the surface as he pours out his heart without having to speak too many words. He cries then, soft but intensely and she wishes she could wrap her arms around him and keep him from shaking too much.

Between a fit of sobs and hiccups, he manages to tell her about a drunk driver slamming into the side of Miranda’s vehicle. He sounds angry when he recalls her phone call saying she got lucky with only some minor injuries, when it’s a life they’ve lost.

She has lost family members herself. Dead and alive. But never a baby.

She doesn’t think she could ever survive that, but she needs Blake to. She needs him to fight for himself, and if he can’t do that, he needs to fight for her. She tells him that, which only causes his hurt to spill out more loudly. He tells her he’s alone at the house and apologizes for calling her at this hour, or at all, referring to their agreement. She shushes him immediately, but his guilt about everything seems to triple in this moment. He listens to what she says, but she knows he can’t hear it and for the first time in forever, that doesn’t make for a problem. She lets him cry and vent, lets him tell her again how he can’t believe a drunk driver took away another one of his loved ones. She cries with him because she can’t believe it either. She knows the choice she makes right now is not only pivotal for them, but most importantly for him.

She gets onto a plane towards LA the next day.

Her eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness in his apartment, the rental he has here much larger than the one he had in New York. The blinds are completely shut, as are all the lights. The smell of booze and sweat hangs heavy in the air as she opens the top window slightly, ignoring Blake’s hoarse “leave it” as she does. He looks horrible; his eyes are blood-shot and he smells like he’s been drinking since he’s gotten the news.

There’s a strange change in demeanour too; he’s uncomfortable but he’s not hiding from her—if anything, he screams out for her comfort even when he stays quiet. She reaches out for him and he shakes his head but doesn’t try to move away, let’s her hands circle around his wrists as she pulls him towards the living room, but they don’t make it. He tries to grab at the wooden chair that’s in arms reach, but the wood just slips from his hands as he collides with the floor, Gwen’s hands on him preventing him from causing a very hard fall.

She watches as he wets his lips with his tongue, the alcohol and tears having left a cracking dryness there that looks painful from where she’s standing. As he lays on his back, not trying to get up, she decides not to push it; at least he can’t sink any lower with his back already on the floor.

She sinks down next to him onto her knees, her soft fingers gracing along his clothed chest and throat, lingering as she feels him exhale a heavy breath. His eyes close tightly against her touch, but his face arches into her hand regardless; almost like he needs the heavier contact as confirmation that she’s really here.

“I’m here.”

It’s the first audible word she’s spoken to him since she got here, vocalizing her presence in a way of reassurance, afraid that a touch alone won’t be enough to convince him.

She wants desperately to say more, but words mean too little and most are too late. She can’t make this better for him, no one can, but he needs to let it out—he needs to know that he can.

His hands are involuntarily balling up into fists beside his body, his nails digging so deep into his skin she can see the start of a cut forming.

“Blake.” She calls for him softly, her hand slowly wrapping around his fist and untangling it until her palm lays flatly against his. “Shhhh.”

His eyes open to meet hers, a mixture of rocky emotions fighting for dominance, as she can see the numerous tragedies finally catching up with him; the thin veil he’d put over his trauma as a coping mechanism now in the process of being torn to shreds.

Her free hand moves to his cheek, the heat of his skin burning against her palm. “I’m so sorry.”

It’s a wide statement—she’s sorry for all that he’s lost during his lifetime and she’s sorry for being there to watch him break like he is now, knowing it’s his biggest fear turned into a reality. There’s too much that isn’t right, too much that should never have happened—too much to be sorry for.

“If I close my eyes…”, he starts softly, his voice so hoarse it sounds painful when he talks, “When I close my eyes, I can see _her_.” He looks at her as his eyes start welling up again. “I can see her until it gets blurry—I can keep losing her forever.”

She shakes her head as she leans down to kiss his forehead, her lips lingering against his skin.

“You don’t deserve to keep torturing yourself like that.”

After a few moments of silence, she decides it’s not good for him to keep laying on these cold tiles, his body shivering as he keeps closing his eyes, imagining what she would’ve looked like. Careful not to hurt or offend him, she pushes at his shoulders a bit to sit him upright. It’s not easy as he fights against the first few tries, but he eventually lets her pull him up and lead him to his bedroom.

“Shirt.” Is all she says as she taps on his chest, indicating she wants him to take it off.

Too tired to fight at this point, he gives in and with one swift move pulls his t-shirt over his head as he hands it to her.

“Jeans too, baby.”

She doesn’t watch him, instead she throws his shirt around the corner of his bedroom, so she won’t forget to throw it in the washer when she leaves his room again. He’s already sitting on his bed in nothing but his boxers when she walks back towards him and she smiles softly, despite the horrible ache pressing against his chest and clawing at his heart, she can still vividly see younger Blake in there—something she won’t allow him to forget.

“Lay back down now.” She pushes softly at his chest until his shoulders collide with the matrass. Pulling the duvet back, she waits for him to position himself into a more comfortable position as she drapes the sheets back over his shivering frame.

“Lay with me.”

His voice was nothing more than a whisper, the words spoken as a plea.

She wishes she could erase the look of pure fear in his eyes from her memory; it’s like an unconscious abundance of guilt and insecurity that’s entirely too much for only one person to carry—overwhelming him in a way only his eyes could speak on.

“Blake ofcourse, baby.” She tries to reassure him with a gentle hand on his heart as she sits down in front of him, making sure to give him enough space as she lays down next to him.

Space seems to be the last thing he needs as he moves closer to her, much like a child that needs comfort from his mother, as he clings to her, his head lowering into the crook of her neck, where her collarbone meets her shoulder.

The blinds in his room shut out most of the city lights, but still on the opposite wall there was a rectangle of light projecting from the small gasps, the artificial yellow glow of the streetlamps fighting its way through. It reminds her of the way light has fought its way back into her life after every hopeless situation that seemed to be never-ending. With Blake clinging to her in her arms, she silently prays to God he’ll do the same for him.

“Gwen?”

“Still here, baby.” She reassures, trying her best at a smile when he lifts his head with most effort to catch her eye. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Fuck Gwen, I can’t…” His breath hitches as a sob tries to escape, the way he’s holding it in, trying to keep himself together is hurtful to watch.

She takes advantage of him still looking at her as she brushes the pad of her thumb over his lips, her own eyes filling with tears too.

“It’s okay, Blake. Please just breathe.”

It’s with one shaky exhale that he lets it all go. The sound of a heart-breaking echoing through the room. Hearts don’t snap like brittle wood or burst like an overfilled balloon; a heart breaks in the heaving waves of a disturbing reality that has arrived uninvited. It’s the reality in which his child no longer lives, it’s the reality in which he survived a terminal sickness only to lose everything after his recovery, it’s the reality in which he never expressed his own heartache in the hopes of keeping others together. It’s the reality in which that’s never been plausible.

She watches him shake with grief, tears staining the sensitive skin of her neck and collar of her shirt.

It must be at least an hour later when his sobs have fully subsided. He’s still clinging onto her, but his grip is less tight and his breathing seems to have gone back to almost normal. Her fingers toy with the curls at the back of his head, his soft breathes exhaled against her neck all the proof she needs to know that he likes it.

“I know I’ve said this before, but you don’t deserve this.”

It’s an obvious statement, but one she feels like she needs to say regardless.

He shudders against her and she tightens her hold on him in response.

“We both know that’s not true.” He whispers, his fingers starting to trace a pattern on her sleeve. “But I appreciate you for saying it.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t do that.”

She doesn’t sound angry—the last thing she feels for him right now is anger—but she won’t let him twist the meaning of her words so it can fit his distorted view of himself.

“I’m so tired of apologizing, Gwen. I’m so tired of feeling guilty…” He sniffs again, but there are no new tears this time. “I’m so fucking sick of all of it.”

It takes her a while to find her words. Not because she doesn’t know what to say, but because she _does_.

“Then let it go.”

She hears him chuckle lowly, but the bitter sound soon changes into another quiet sob, his hand coming to rest over his eyes as he rubs at them frustrated.

“I’m serious, Blake. I know why you’re holding on to it, but it’s not right. If you don’t want to do it for yourself, do it for _her_.”

His hand drops from his face, his gaze relentless.

“There’s nothing I can do for her now, can I? Isn’t that the whole point of this? Me fucking up, me losing everything I care about. It’s not about a happy ending for me here Gwen, and that’s not me feeling sorry for myself—that’s me finally being fucking honest.”

“Stop it.”

“I deserve it.”

She pushes at his chest until he’s back to lating flat on the mattress, her arm coming to rest on the opposite side of his body so she’s hanging over him.

“Stop.”

“GWEN, I SAID...”

Ignoring the raise of volume, she keeps her gaze on him sweet, her lips touching his for only a second; it’s barely a kiss, merely a brush against him to remind him of something other than the venom on his lips.

“You can tell me a thousand times that you deserve this, you can tell me it a million different ways, but it still won’t make it the truth.”

She watches him swallow, his eyes closing against the honesty radiating from her.

“You want me to tell you how you fucked up? You know you did. You made a bunch of decisions that made no one happy, which would’ve been okay if it at least brought you some.”

She touches his face gently, smoothing down her honesty.

“But you’ve made a bunch of people _very_ happy. You stayed strong for your parents when they needed you to, you’ve been a great friend to Adam, you make people feel loved and cared about by just being you. You can lay here and tell me you deserve tragedy after tragedy, but we both know that isn’t right.”

“I deserve— “

“—A break.”

His eyes open to give her a strange but grateful look—something she didn’t see coming. Something else that takes her by surprise is the way he brings her closer to him; his arms draw her in so softly, so fragile, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to touch her. She lets him set the pace, even though she wants to feel him more confidently around her.

The hug sufficed as merely a gesture of gratitude, but the underlying truth is that maybe it suffices as the fragile beginning of something they thought they’d lost.


	11. Chapter 11

The exhaustion of the long travel and emotional rollercoaster she’s been on since setting foot in his apartment finally caught up with her. After having held Blake for hours, she waited till he drifted off in utter exhaustion, before silently retreating from his bed and settling down on his much less comfortable couch. In a perfect world, she would’ve stayed right there, but she knows they are rather unstable and Blake needs her to be his friend more than he needs an unreliable lover.

She tries her hardest to keep her eyes closed, feeling way too tired to be dragged back into the conscious world yet, but something seems to pull her there regardless. Her eyelids flicker open for less than a second before she shuts them again, waiting for her mind to tumble back into her subconscious, but it won’t.

She feels a soft, lingering touch on her forehead, the drowsiness making it hard to identify the touch. She slowly and reluctantly opens her eyes for a bit longer, looking up at a crouched down Blake, his finger softly touching her cheek and pulling strands of hair out of her face. She blinks in a bit of confusion but smiles regardless.

“Blake?” She asks gently. “Are you okay?”

The softness in his eyes shows her that he’s trying to give her an honest answer without making her feel guilty for asking such a loaded question.

“I thought you’d left.” He says softly, his finger still tracing along her cheek.

A surge of guilt rushes through her body as she realizes what she must’ve caused him to think. She would never leave without telling him, definitely not while being in the mental state he’s in—but she also can’t blame him for thinking that she might. She had been awake for hours after she got herself situated on his couch, debating on whether to join him back in his bed.

Her hand reaches out for his face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Come back to bed, you don’t have to sleep on the couch.”

She shakes her head. “It’s better like this. Get some sleep.”

She wants to offer him something else; she wants to give herself to him once more, not caring about the damage it could do to her in the future. Being close to him used to suffice as being her saving grace, a stable center amongst all the chaos the world had to offer. She would be that for him too if she could ever figure out a way how.

“Come back to bed.” He whispers again, not letting up. “I can’t stand the idea of not having you close to me right now.”

She doesn’t even want to know what that statement truly means for him, so she doesn’t ask. She slowly sits up and rubs her knuckles across her eyes, the tiredness heavy everywhere.

“You’re exhausted.” Blake observes.

She nods, but doesn’t look at him. “It’s okay, it’s not about me.”

Blake holds out his hands and she gently takes them as she lets him pull her up into a standing position. Despite it being in the middle of the night, she can slightly make out Blake’s features in the dark, his eyes a bit less red and puffy as they were when she first found him drunk and crying on his kitchen floor, his body more steady and stable as well—the broken look in his eyes unfortunately equally as present.

He seems to realize exactly what she’s seeing, and being unable to face that yet, he looks down as he leads them back into the bedroom.

She starts out by giving him a little bit of space, even though he asked her to come lay with him again, but the moment his arms reach out to wrap her in, she lets him without a doubt. His arms squeeze around her midsection as she starts to feel him breath more slowly, his muscles losing a bit of its tension when she snuggles further into his chest. It’s funny how the one thing she’s been craving to do all along, seems to be the only thing that he’s been needing too. When he pulls her a fraction tighter and places a kiss in her hair, she feels her own tension subsiding as well; her whole body appreciative of the simple move.

Once more, he proves to be on the same page as her when it comes to having her close.

“Thank you.”

She doesn’t answer his gratitude with a verbal response, but she does places a soft kiss on his chest. His embrace is always warm and his long arms reaching all around her feels very protective when wrapped around her small body. Just like the old days, she lets the world around her melt away as she wishes to every God to not let this moment end too soon.

*

The feeling of hot coffee gliding down her throat provides a warmth in her stomach that’s not at all unwelcome, her fingers wrapped tightly around the glass as the heat spreads through her hands. She’s sitting at Blake’s kitchen counter as she waits for him to wake up; sleep had not come easy to her last night, surprised that her tossing and turning didn’t wake him up once—probably a testament to his emotional exhaustion.

Sitting here alone as she waits for the early hours of the morning to slowly fade away, she takes the time to savour the warmth in her cup, to make up for the loss of heat when she unwrapped herself from Blake’s sleeping frame. She takes a bigger sip and this time lets the warm liquid sit on her tongue for longer, letting herself get used to the bitterness. She remembers the mornings when she still lived at home; her father would sip at his coffee like it was the greatest luxury, the bitterness of the drink only adding to his appeal for it. She’s not sure if it’s the image of her father enjoying the beverage that has lessened her own appeal to it, but this morning she chooses to savour it exactly like her dad would, her manicured finger making a knack into the delicate milky foam that trailed among the pale brown of her cup.

“Morning.”

She whips around quickly, jumping at the sound of his voice. With her hand over her heart, she closes her eyes and shakes her head with a giggle.

“Jesus Blake, you scared me.”

“Guilty conscience?” His voice sounds rough, but his face is working at a small smile.

“I think you just like creeping up on me.”

She glances at him from the corner of her eyes and watches as he reaches for one of the vacant kitchen chairs.

“I like looking at ya, there’s a difference.”

She blushes at the flirty comment, but brushes it off quickly. The memories of him laying broken on this floor making it hard for her to focus on anything much lighter.

Blake can sense the immediate shift in demeanour.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that, Gwen.” He says bashfully, his eyes adverting to her in an apologetic manner. “Shit, I don’t even remember half of what happened last night.”

“There’s not much to remember.” She says softly. “You were in a bad place, which is understandable considering what you’ve been through—what you’re _still_ going through.”

Blake doesn’t say anything in return, just softly nods his head and takes a seat across from her, rubbing at the tiredness in his eyes. She watches him squint his eyes, like they’re still a bit sensitive to the light and she realizes he must have one hell of a hungover. She stands up immediately, looking for her purse and cracking a small smile when she approaches him again.

“Take this.” She hands him two Tylenols and a glass of water, which he takes gratefully. As he swallows them down, it seems to dawn on him that she just had those ready.

“Why do you carry these with you?” He asks after having swallowed down both pills.

She shrugs it off, not about to tell him she had to use them herself after he broke her heart the last time.

“I just figured it would turn out handy at some point. Looks like I was right.”

He chuckles softly as he takes another sip of water. She sits across from him again, taking in his fragile looking demeanour, which is just so different from his usual self. She watches as his hands flex and fidget around his glass, and wonders if he realizes how incredibly vulnerable he looks in the new morning light.

With everything they’ve been through together, it’s weird to sit in his apartment again while also realizing she’s not sad to be here; she actually likes being here, just wishes it were different circumstances. There’s something about Blake that will always be familiar—that will always be like home.

“I’m sorry.”

Her apology sounds brisk in the air between them, the surprise written all over his exhausted yet handsome features. He stares at her, the lines on his forehead bunching up ever so gently and she must keep herself from reaching out and smoothing them over with her fingertips.

“What for?” He asks equally as confused as he looks.

“For everything.” She reiterates, walking across the kitchen island until she’s standing next to him, her hand firmly on his shoulder. “For my own faults and demons I let ruin us by not talking to you about them, for not being able to take away your pain…. I’m sorry for all the apologies you’ve never gotten from everyone else.”

It goes without saying that he’s hurt her in the past and even the present. It’s true she’s given him far more chances than he thinks he’s got inside of him to deserve. But it’s also true that him leaving her the way he has, made it easier for her to not have to face her _own_ wrongdoings. There’s a lot he didn’t know about—a lot he still isn’t aware of—things that could’ve made a difference. It’s taken her over two decades to finally face that.

She’s pulled out of her thoughts when she hears him sniff, while he seems unaware or unfazed by the moisture running down his cheek. She tightens her grip on his shoulder for support, but other than that doesn’t dare to move.

“You shouldn’t be apologizing.” He finally vocalizes. He’s struggling with what to say next and she knows reassurance is something he doesn’t know how to give out at times, but she just hopes she’s given him enough of that to help guide him through. “I keep thinking about what to say to you, but I just…. I don’t know, Gwen. Maybe that makes me the biggest idiot in the world, but I don’t know what to say. Not to you.”

Lifting her head, she stares ahead before glancing back at him.

“Blake, if this is you trying to push me away again, I won’t— “

“No!” He protests immediately. “I want you here, I need you here…” The hitch in his voice makes her flinch. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

She squints her eyes. “I need you to be more specific.”

Maybe she could figure it out on her own, but she’s spent too much time trying to read in between the lines. Not just with Blake, but with everyone in her life—she just wants certainty provided from the people she can come to expect it from. After all these years with Blake, she thinks it’s safe to expect more.

“I guess I don’t know how to tell you I need you, because I never have told you, at least not in the way I should’ve. But I always have needed you, Gwen. I still do.”

Silence permeates between them, as the words float around. Just by looking in his eyes she can see that there’s something inside of him that’s desperately ready to let things out. His voice jars her, but it’s not the timber of his words, it’s the impact of what he’s admitted.

“That right there…” She whispers. “That’s all you need to do—that’s all you need to say.”

She feels his arm coming around her lower back, his head resting against her hip. It hits her how perfectly flawed this man is and how it will never make her love him any less. It’s like she’s never been able to look much further than him, his love so ingrained into her being, it’s been silently marking every human relationship she indulged in.

“What did you mean when you said you had your own demons you’ve never talked about with me?”

His question comes so sudden that she involuntarily freezes up beside him. He seems to take notice as his eyes wander up her body, his arm keeping her firmly placed against him.

She bites her lip softly, her eyes casting down.

“We shouldn’t talk about that now.”

“Why not? We’re talking about everything else.”

She closes her eyes as she weighs the pros and cons of coming clean to him now. She doesn’t want to keep anything from him, but he’s already in a fragile state and she just doesn’t know how much more he can handle.

“I want to tell you everything, and I will….”

He looks at her with his eyebrows raised, but quickly drops his defiant stance. Recognitions dawns onto his features.

“But you’re not gonna tell me now.”

She shakes her head softly. “You’ve just got the most horrible news. It’s okay to focus on just you for once. Let me take care of you right now, _just you_ ”, she says gently. “Please?”

He sighs deeply, his eyes closing as he nods in defeat.

“But later…”

“I’ll tell you.” She interjects quickly. “I promise.”

*

“So this is where all the magic happens?” She says softly, in awe of the professional-looking place, the big doors and large open spaces confirming all her preconceived ideas about large music studios.

From the way Adam talked about his business with Blake, she knew it would look somewhat like this, but knowing this is where Blake spends most of his time creating and being honest, she feels a surge of something unfamiliar course through her, wishing she had the same ability he had just so she could spend some time here too.

“You could say that.” He says in response, his hand on her lower back as he ushers her in and closes the door behind her.

“Is this where you guys record?”

He shakes his head softly, obviously excited about her curiosity about his passion.

“No, the vocal booth is down the hall. But this room right here...” he says while knocking on the wall, “this is where I usually write.”

She looks around; the room is smaller than every other one they’ve passed on their way here; the secluded space was a shade of brown that eyed almost antique. It exuded a sense of comfort combined with the sharpness you’d expect from a high-up studio. Her eyes flicker to the many guitars stacked against the wall on the opposite corner and the abandoned keyboard at the far left.

“This is so cool, Blake.”

She can hear him chuckle softly, but she doesn’t actually turn around to see him do it—she’s too entranced by everything she’s seeing, feeling beyond happy to be let in on such a personal part of his life.

“Thank you for convincing me to come here.” He says softly, walking up behind her until his hands manage to find solace on both of her shoulders. “It helps me.”

She smiles. “I knew it would.”

“You know me better than I know myself sometimes.”

“I remember telling you that at several occasions and somehow it’d always end up in a fight.” She teases.

He laughs at the memories, but knows there’s a whole bunch of pain there.

“I think you’ve always known me better than either you or me has ever given you credit for.”

She smiles at his words.

“I was planning on coming here to write the day before...” His voice breaks in the most heartbreaking way, Gwen’s hands involuntarily seeking him out from behind. “I really wanted it, Gwen.”

She stays quiet for a while, her eyes tightly pressed shut against the gruesome pain forming in her own chest. 

“I didn’t know that before, but I do now. I wanted to be a father, I  _felt_  like one already.”

His head leaning on her shoulder gives her the opportunity to look him in the eyes, hoping that hers show him enough understanding and compassion. 

“You were always meant to be one.” She whispers.

She means it with every fibre of her being; Blake has always had this ability of comforting people without actually having to say anything, his presence would be enough to make one feel safe. 

He smiles at her gently, closing his eyes as his body melts into hers even more. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Cause I’ve always said so. Always  _thought_  so.”

“Why don’t you have kids?”

The brazen question causes her to stiffen, her whole body feeling like a bag of bricks suddenly. She can see a new wave of regret settling in the depths of his blue eyes. 

“Gwen, I’m—“

“There are many  _many_  reasons for that.”

She cuts him off before he can apologize to her again. He’s still holding her, but his grip on her is a bit lighter, like he’s waiting for her to walk away from him any second now.

“Our relationship wasn’t very stable; I wouldn’t want to bring a child into that.” She adds softly, her voice weak.

 _“I don’t want to bring a child into an unsafe environment like the one I’ve known.”_ It’s what goes unsaid, but she feels heavy in her bones.

“You would’ve made an amazing mom.” He says next, his lips placing a soft kiss on her cheek. 

She feels the tears jump into her eyes, shaking her head to keep them away. 

“ _He_ had different plans for me apparently. If it was meant to happen, it would've.”

The words seem to hit Blake extra hard and she winces at what she just implied.

“ _Blake..._ ”

“It’s okay. I get why you say that, I understand it. Doesn’t mean I have to agree.”

Her spirituality has always been something that was hers, not his. It’s what’s gotten her through some of her most challenging moments, while Blake turned to the strength of other’s.

“I forgot how easy it used to be for us to just talk.” She muses out loud.

“I haven’t.”

She chuckles, her eyes casting down as she takes in the feeling of his warm body still pressed against her.

“I don’t believe that.”

They stand like that for a while; her back pressed against his front, his strong arms now wrapping around her waist. His solid chest always provides a sense of safety when she’s pressed against it.

He rests his chin on her shoulder and turns his lips in toward her neck, his breaths are heavy and his lips are only inches from the flesh on her neck. The moment is not supposed to be sexual, but when he whispers the words so closely to her skin, she can’t help the explosion of goosebumps on her skin.

“You were never forgettable. Not ever.”

She tries to whisper in protest but he stops her with his lips on her neck. Her words evaporate as soon as they escape her lungs and her hand immediately finds its way onto the back of his warm neck as she lets his lips nibble at her, the touches feather-like against her skin.

Their eyes catch and his are shining with a bit of mischief, but mostly hope and desperation. He never seems to get rid of that masculine beauty, even after all the heartaches and current pain that makes him look ten times more vulnerable. When he looks at her like that, it’s like no time has passed and the need to touch him flares up so intensely inside of her.

Her fingers glide from behind his neck, onto his cheek, her palm grazing the faintest hint of hair lining his rough jaw. Her eyes soak up every detail about him, the way his eyes light up when she gives him a small smile reassuring she wants his touch just as much as he needs to touch her.

“I wanna work this out with you, Gwen. I don’t care how we do it, but I can’t lose you another time.”

Her eyes connect with his once more, the determination glimmering in his blue eyes. She wants nothing more but to figure this out with him right now, but she knows it’s not the right moment.

“Let’s not think about that right now.”

He doesn’t seem surprised at her answer, but he doesn’t let it go either.

“I know I haven’t always been good with my words, and even worse, my actions didn’t do much better. But I will do things different this time”, his head nuzzles against her cheek until his words are directly spoken against her neck. “I know I can’t ask you for anything, but I’m gonna show you just how serious I am. Be patient with me.”

Her breath catches when his mouth moves down the column of her neck, stopping on her shoulder. His next words are muffled when he doesn't remove his mouth.

"I promised you through better or worse. Sometimes I feel like I've only been at my worst. But I thought about it a lot while Miranda was.....I, I thought about the kind of dad I wanted to be and I know I can do better. I want to be better, Gwen.” 

His muffled sob vibrates against her skin and her heart breaks and heals in this moment with him that brings them together in a whirlpool of emotion.

"I've always known.” She says softly, turning around in his arms and hooking her own around his torso.

“There's tomorrow and the next day, the day after that. You have all those days ahead to show me the "better" but let me tell you; there’s no doubt in my mind you would’ve made an awesome father, Blake. I’ve always believed that.”

He grips her tighter in his arms and she presses her lips against his shoulder as they hold each other tightly. She swallows and glides her hands up the expanse of his chest and lands them on his broad shoulders, his body a never-ending escape.

"I've always believed in you, y’know?” She whispers after a while. "After you left, I was mad, of course, but I was mostly upset because I _knew_ that wasn’t you. I drove myself crazy thinking about what could’ve made you do what you did. I never stopped seeing the good in you— I was just heartbroken thinking that you stopped seeing the good in _me_." She whispers as her shiny eyes meet his once more. His eyes are sad but there's hope in the crystalline. 

"I'm so sorry."

"Shhhh," she whispers in his ear as she doesn't want to hear him apologize anymore. 

A small smile floats across his features and his deep voice reverberates against her chest in a sonnet that surpasses any love song or poem.  
  
“You’re _too_ good, Gwen. You always have been.”


	12. Chapter 12

She whirls around quickly, her hands still holding the curling iron as she faces Blake in the doorway. She blushes at all her stuff on the vanity that’s pushing his aside; one day they’ll have to go over the promises of this living arrangement, because his bathroom is way too small; she can barely stash most of her belongings here without rearranging most of his’.

She doesn’t realize until she watches him stare dumbfounded that he’s seeing her in this dress for the first time, the one she bought especially for this occasion.

“Uh, wow...” He stammers, unable to keep his eyes off her.

“You like it?” She asks a bit nervously, lowering her hand so she can put her curling iron down carefully and give him a little spin. “I didn’t know if it was too much, you know?”

“You look….” He shakes his head like he’s overheating—and he might be. He walks closer to her in the small bathroom, leaving little space to begin with but enhancing it by stepping right into her personal space, his chest pushing her gently back against the vanity, his hand resting on the crook of her neck. “Fucking incredible.”

Her eyes narrow on him, trying to play it cool but her smile gives her giddy mood away.

“Is this weird for you?”

“Is _what_ weird?” He asks gently, his hand starting to squeeze a little, his thumb rubbing soft circles along the nape of her neck.

“Living with someone again?”

She knows it’s a belated question since she’s been here for the last two months already, but on nights like these were everything just feels so normal, she can’t help but wonder if there’s a part of him that’s weirded out about doing this stuff again with her.

“Well”, he starts of softly. “I guess it is kind of weird that you’ve been living here for two months now and you still have some boxes unpacked.”

She tears her eyes away from him, giggling before looking up at him again.

“Blake, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” He smiles. “The rest doesn’t feel weird to me. It feels right.”

Gwen runs her hand through his hair, settling on the hairs on his neck; she clutches his curls in her hand, feeling it scratch at her fingers.

“I guess I really do have to unpack those boxes one of these days.” She whispers with a smile.

“I think you should.” He agrees. “I mean, I get why you haven’t yet but I really don’t want you to leave.”

Her eyes soften at his words, feeling the sincerity drip from his lips as he addresses her.

“I still have to make some calls to the office, but most of the relocating is taken care of. Just some business stuff that I won’t bore you with….” She smiles softly, feeling her nerves suddenly take over. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

He bites his lip, drawing her in even closer. “Do you have doubts about this? Cause if you do, I get it, I don’t want to pressure you into this.”

“No, no that’s not it.” She reassures quickly. “I’m not saying yes to this because I feel like I have to. I want to.”

“But?” He asks softly.

“It’s just scary.” She admits. “The last time we lived together was over twenty years ago and as amazing as that was, we both know how that ended.”

He sighs deeply, pain flashing in his eyes. “It’s a big step, I know that. You have your life in New York and you’re agreeing to leaving a lot of that behind to start over here. I want you to know you can talk to me, okay? Whether you’re having doubts or just feeling homesick—no more feeling like you can’t tell me what’s bothering you. Promise?”

She can feel her eyes filling at his words, realizing just how much she’s missed this side of Blake.

“I promise.” She whispers.

It’s a loaded promise that she’s set on making good on, but for now she just tightens her arms around his waist and lets her head fall against his chest, enjoying the way his heartbeat rings loudly in her ear.

“Do you think Behati will still like me?”

The question is whispered quietly against his chest and she can feel him shift underneath her. When his gaze meets hers, she’s met with mostly confusion.

“Gwen, what are you talking about? She _loves_ you!”

Gwen huffs. “She hasn’t reached out to me once. And I’m not even talking about these two decades of her staying quiet.”

Blake knows better than to try and smooth over her bitterness of the situation and instead looks her dead in the eyes as he tries to convey as much honesty as he possibly can in these moments.

“She’s scared, she knows how hurt you were—how hurt you still are.”

“I forgave _you_ , I made up with Adam, what makes her think she’ll be any different?”

“You guys used to be as tight as can be, she was like a sister to you…”

Blake’s voice sounds laced with regret and something else she can’t quite place. She knows he’s right—they were two peas in a pod and knowing that not even Behati had the decency to call her up and tell her the truth ripped her heart straight out of her chest the first time she heard about it. She also knows that Blake and Adam took much of her choice away and giving Blake another chance, in a way meant that she couldn’t hold it against Behati either.

“Maybe this isn’t the right time, I mean _obviously_ she’s not ready and I’m way too nervous; what if I say all the wrong things?”

She feels the panic rising in her chest, her body trying to get away from him but Blake’s grip is firm as he holds her against him. “Listen to me, Gwen...” He says softly. “You have nothing to be worried about, nothing you say will be the wrong thing—you’re entitled to whatever you’re feeling.”

“That’s not how you felt about this whole thing in the beginning either.”

She closes her eyes as soon as the words escape her, the apology already laying on her tongue when he shushes her.

“That’s okay, you’re right.” He agrees softly, his hand rubbing her back in either apology or to sooth himself—she’s not quite sure. “But it doesn’t matter what she thinks, _or_ what I think, this is about you trying to give us another chance, which I know for a fact is something she treasures beyond belief.”

She takes a deep breath in, her eyes coming up to his once more. “Okay, let’s do this then.”

She doesn’t sound too convincing yet, but she knows that moving here means she’ll run in to them much more, especially with Blake and Adam still being as close as they are. She also can’t deny she’s missed her friends; if she can find it in her heart to move on and give Blake another try, she’s determined she can do the same for the two people who took her in when she had nowhere else to go.

“Are you ready to go?”

She suddenly realizes Blake interrupted her during her getting ready and she pulls away from his grip and looks into the mirror once more.

“5 minutes. I promise.”

*

“Hey Gwen, good to see you again.” Adam’s voice is cheerful as he pulls her in for a hug, lingering a bit longer than usual as he must feel her nerves knotting up her bones.

“Hi.” She smiles gently, trying her best to get the overwhelming feeling in her stomach to die down a bit; not even catching a glimpse of Behati yet.

Blake’s standing next to her, his hand still on her back as she watches him make brief eye contact with his friend. There’s a moment of awkwardness between the three of them before Adam breaks it by addressing the obvious elephant in the room.

“She’s just putting Dusty to bed, if you want you can— “

“No that’s okay.” She says quickly, cutting him off before he can continue. “I’ll wait here.”

Blake shoots her a worried glance; suddenly afraid this will be too much for her. She grabs his hand and squeezes softly, hoping to convey that she’s alright and she will get through this night as long as he doesn’t leave her side.

It’s about another five minutes before Behati finally joins them and for a second Gwen feels like she’s about to cry or yell—or maybe a mixture of both. Her old friend was still beautiful as ever; her dark blonde hair falling in soft layers around her bare shoulders, the short flowery dress she was wearing classy despite the revealing nature. Behati has always had that model look about her—she was classically pretty, to the point where it sometimes felt unfair. Unlike most times she can remember, the woman in front of her is not wearing her signature smile, instead she looks a bit fearful, her own eyes seemingly filling up as well.

 _“Gwen_.” She says her name in a shaky exhale, as If she can’t truly believe she’s actually here.

Adam and Blake stay uncharacteristically quiet as they watch the stiff interaction, not knowing whether to help or stay out of it—they decide on the latter.

The nerves circling her abdomen feel like they’ll get the best of her any moment now, as her fingers tremble slightly. It’s then that Behati unexpectedly closes the distance between them and hugs her tightly, causing Gwen to whimper in shock before giving in and pulling the woman tighter against her; the familiar vanilla scent of her perfume still the same.

She sniffs against her hair, her breath hitching as she feels Behati squeeze her tighter, neither one saying a word. She doesn’t know how long they stand like that, but when they finally pull away they’re both crying.

“God, I’m so sorry.” Behati breathes as she holds onto Gwen’s hands.

“I don’t…” She begins softly but she can’t seem to find the words, not within this intimate cocoon she suddenly finds herself in. “Oh my god.”

“I know you must hate me, but I can’t begin to tell you how much I’ve missed you. I wanna talk to you, _really_ talk to you, but maybe now is not the time. How about dinner first?”

It sounds reasonable to Gwen, especially considering her own loss for words so she just nods, watching Adam and Blake stand up off the couch from the corner of her eyes.

Dinner ends up being a bit awkward, but she’s grateful for Adam and Blake providing the needed conversation, even being able to involve both Gwen and Behati as they take turns talking about their lives a bit, Blake nudging Gwen to tell them more about her business ventures now here in LA. She’s happy with his stimulation because words still come difficult under the amount of stress she’s experiencing.

It’s not until after dinner, when Adam provides them with the much-needed alcohol, that Behati asks for attention again, pulling her aside into the large but organized backyard. Standing shoulder to shoulder with the girl she considered to be like her sister before everything went to shit, is as surreal as anything could ever be.

“Please forgive me, Gwen.” Behati’s voice breaks as she whispers the words into the brisk evening air, her eyes searching for Gwen’s.

“ _Bee_ …”

The nickname is so ingrained into her being, it slips out automatically and it’s been so incredibly long since she’d said that.

“Adam and Blake, they were so adamant they were doing the right thing. I wanted to tell you, I did— “

“—I’m not mad at you.” Gwen interrupts, causing Behati to look at her bewilderedly. “Do I think you guys should’ve told me? Yeah. But this wasn’t your choice and in all honesty, I don’t know what I would’ve done in your position.”

The words are enough to break her friend as she starts softly crying next to her.

“I almost left him, you know. Adam...”

Gwen’s eyes widen at her silent admission, turning her body so she’s looking directly at her before being brought back to one of the earlier conversations she and Blake had after hooking up the first time she’d laid eyes on him again after twenty years.

_They’ve been together ever since high school. They broke up for a few months after you left though._

She took the words in when he’d said them, but she never thought of herself being the reason for their short break.

“Blake mentioned something about you two breaking up for a little while…”

“I thought leaving him, leaving that life behind, I would be able to tell you—but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Seems like you made the right decision. Look at you and him now.”

“Yeah.” Behati whispers. “I got lucky.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet the little one, I’ve been dying to.”

It’s not a lie. She’s been thinking about it quite a lot, motherhood a topic they both discussed quite a bit when they were still on speaking terms.

“How’s Blake doing with, uhm, everything he’s been going through lately?”

It’s weird to be asked a question like that about Blake, with her being the one to provide an answer, lord knows things have been different in the recent past.

“He’s hanging in there. Some days are better than others, but he’s making progress.”

“I still can’t believe it.” Bee says softly, shaking her head.

“I know. I can’t imagine what he’s feeling.”

Gwen turns around briefly to sneak a glance into the living room, watching Blake in what appears to be some light-hearted conversation with Adam; her lips curving into a small smile at the sight of him happy and carefree, something she doesn’t see nearly enough of.

“He always talked about how you would’ve made a great mom.”

There’s a tightness in her throat as she takes in Behati’s words, her lungs feeling like they can’t get enough air to save her life; just sagging instead of contracting for the next breath. She’s suddenly craving another glass of Adam’s expensive bottle of pinot noir.

“He did?” She manages to choke out.

“Jesus Gwen, you gotta know that he’s never wanted anything more.”

“And he almost had it.”

Behati doesn’t miss a beat. “Not with you.”

Gwen bites her lip hard, preventing the tears from spilling over. “There’s nothing I would’ve wanted more either. In a way, I feel like he took that away from us too, but I know I can’t hold that against him; it’s not fair.”

“You still could’ve had kids, even if it wasn’t with him.” Behati utters carefully, but honest.

She sighs as she clears her throat, her eyes burning with the sting of her tears settling there, ready to spill over at any given moment.

“No, I couldn’t.”

After a few seconds to collect herself, she tries her best to elaborate. “Blake’s the only man in my life I was able to really trust. If I would’ve had kids, it could’ve only been with him. Maybe that’s stupid, maybe that’s the dumbest thing ever, but you can’t be selfish when it comes to children—if I can’t be a hundred percent sure I can provide them safety, I shouldn’t have them.”

“Why wouldn’t they have been safe with Gavin?”

“I don’t really have an answer to that.” She admits softly. “We just weren’t ever stable and I knew I couldn’t trust him to be loyal; that’s not the type of man I want to be the father of my kids.”

She doesn’t know why it’s so hard for her to say it—even now—especially with Behati being the only one to know the details. Hurt seems to consume her when they get to this topic and she’s not able to function properly with it hovering over her so heavily.

“So why did you stay?” Behati asks eventually.

“Cause I hoped he could change—or maybe _I_ could.”

It doesn’t take Bee too long to read between the lines and she knows her friend knows more details about Gwen and her own father than anyone else. It’s that realization of Behati being forced to hold way too many secrets that shatters the last bit of reluctance she was holding onto.

“Come here.” Gwen’s voice is soft as she pulls her in for another hug, her body melting into hers as every muscle loses its tension to the autumn air. “I want you to know I’m telling Blake soon. About my dad, he deserves to know.”

Her friend doesn’t say anything, just sways them a bit as she holds her close, almost like she’s afraid of losing her another time.

“We’re all getting a second chance here.” Behati says eventually, still hugging her. “And there’s no one in this world who deserves that more than you, Gwen—so please take it.”

The words resonate with her deeply, as she pulls away. “You don’t think it’s selfish to _claim_ him again?”

Behati raises her eyebrows, holding firmly onto Gwen’s shoulders.

“Why would you even say that?”

“I can’t exactly say I’ve been able to bring him much stability, and that’s exactly what he needs right now. Besides, I have my own baggage—baggage he doesn’t even know about yet. I just feel like I’m about to burden a man who’s had enough of that to last him a lifetime.”

“He’s always loved you”, Behati starts gently. “Through everything, through all these years, it’s still you who’s been the one he secretly waited on. I think it’s safe to say his love for you is the one thing that’s always been very stable.”

Gwen doesn’t do anything to hide the tears in her eyes, not anymore.

“But...”

“No but’s. You’re here now, he’s alive; it’s time for both of you to be happy again.”

*

It’s not much later that Blake comes outside with a hint of hesitance, eyeing both women nervously. His arm sliding across her lower back as he joins them in the backyard.

“Adam wondered if you guys wanted to come inside for another drink.” The hint of question in his voice makes him unexplainably more adorable and she sinks back into his body a bit.

“I could use another drink.” Gwen smiles softly.

“Amen.” Behati joins in quiet laughter.

“Should I have come in and safe you guys sooner?” Blake asks sheepishly.

“ _No_!” Both woman exclaim in unison, laughing at the unintended harmony. “We actually had a really great talk, am I right Bee?”

Her friend nods her head in agreement, smiling softly as the gratitude flashes on her features once again. She pushes past the both of them, bumping into them purposefully as she giggles. “I’ve missed this. Y’all are cute.”

Gwen shoots him a bashful look, burying her head into his chest as he chuckles lowly. She doesn’t exactly how many drinks she’s consumed after joining the boys back in the living room, but by the time Blake utters to go home, Gwen’s pretty much one with the sofa, the cushions offering her just enough support to keep sitting up. She’s had way too much to catch up on to go home early—or stop drinking.

The happy buzz was soon taking over as she feels herself getting giddy and a bit slower in response. She doesn’t feel too bad about it, Blake being the only one who stayed sober enough to drive. She forgot how hard Adam and Behati could party, getting her in trouble more than once back in the day.

It took them about another hour after Blake had spoken out about leaving before they actually left, Gwen leaning on him heavily as he guides her back into his—now _their_ —apartment. The door had barely had time to fall back into its lock before Gwen’s giggling frame had him pushed up against it.

“I had fun.” She murmurs lowly.

Blake smiles proudly. “I’m glad, baby. Really glad, actually.”

Her hand reaches out for the coat he’s wearing, her usually skilful fingers now embarrassingly bad at doing the easiest of tasks. She smiles despite her struggle and Blake’s hand comes to cover her own, offering to help which she accepts as gracefully as she can possibly be in this moment.

“Come on baby, let’s get you into something more comfortable.” Blake offers sweetly, holding his hands out for her to take, but she shakes her head.

“Let’s do something else.”

Her smile is utterly filthy, the meaning of her words painfully obvious as she smirks. Her smile only fades a little when she makes out a hint of hesitation on his features even in her drunken state.

“As amazing as that sounds, you can barely stand up on your own…”

“Trust me, what I have in mind for us doesn’t involve much standing.”

He chuckles again, still holding his hands out for her which she finally takes; proving his point immediately as she stumbles into him.

“Just hold that thought for tomorrow darlin’.”

If she hadn’t been drunk off her ass, she probably would’ve understood more about his reasoning, but now she can’t get herself to think passed her disappointment. Noticing the way her lips pout, he plants a slow kiss to sooth some of her frustration.

“I’m trying hard to be a gentleman here, would you let me?” He whispers against her lips. “ _Please_?”

There’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes her shake her head before giving in a second later. He seems proud of himself before opening the door to the master bedroom, helping her change into her night attire before pulling back the duvet.

“I’ll be there in a second.” He says sweetly, covering her slim body with the freshly washed sheets, smiling at the adorable sight she makes.

She smiles before closing her eyes and laying back against the pillow. “Blake?”

“Mhmm, yeah babe?”

“Thank you…” She’s grateful he knows her so well, because he’s sitting on her bedside without further prodding.

“You’re pretty cute when you’re being a drunkie”, he teases.

“Stop it.” She groans.

Silence falls between them for a few minutes, her hand reaching out for his arm blindly as she drapes it across her stomach. Her fingers play lazily with a few hairs she finds there, enjoying the way it feels to just be with him.

“How are you this beautiful all the damn time?” He asks while his finger strokes her cheek gently.

She’s too tired and too drunk to really fight him, so she just closes her eyes and enjoys the gentle touch of his finger tracing along her skin.

“Babe…”

“I’m serious.” He grins broadly.

“I’m like two seconds away from passing out.” She whispers, her eyes opening briefly.

“That’s okay, you should really get some sleep.”

Just as she feels her limbs getting heavy, melting into the mattress, she can hear Blake’s intake of breath indicating he’s about to say something. She doesn’t know if it’s her drunken state that makes her open her mouth, but the words are out before she can stop them.

“I would’ve loved to have a child with you.”

She can hear his breath hitch. “Gwen, I…”

“It’s not fair.”

He leans forward, their foreheads resting against each other before kissing her gently. His voice is barely more than a whisper against her lips.

“Go get some sleep, baby.”

He gently moves away from the bed leaving her alone as she cuddles the blankets close to her body. She replaces the image of her own father leaving marks on her body which made for ugly bruises that needed covering up, with the image of Blake taking care of the little one that should’ve been theirs.

She sleeps all through the night.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this is super long chapter and deals with a lot of drama and angst. If that's not your thing, I wouldn't read this. 
> 
> Also, the few lyrics I've used in this chapter are from a song called "Could It Be" from the band Staind (I just rewrote them a bit to make sense for these characters, but most of these words are NOT mine).

She wakes with her limbs all tangled up in the sheets, her leg all the way over to Blake’s side as she grunts at the first signs of consciousness. Surprisingly, she doesn’t feel too sick after her night at Adam and Behati’s, but the aftermath of her drinking did cause for a wave of exhaustion to hover over her. She rubs her forehead as she buries her head deeper into the pillow beneath her. It takes her a solid two minutes before she realizes her sprawled out body isn’t touching anyone else’s, her eyes shooting open to find an empty bed.

Though they’ve been sleeping in the same bed together ever since her moving in, they have been able to take it a bit slower in the physical department—not depriving themselves either, but it’s not the main focus. It’s undeniable that it’s helped them grown even closer; falling asleep in his arms again and knowing that he can hold her like he used to has made it easier for the both of them to accept their love and trust back in.

Waking up alone is definitely not in her list of things she enjoys. She looks over at the alarm clock next to the bed and shoots up into a sitting position; she’s slept most of the day away, _ofcourse_ Blake’s not lying with her anymore. Her eyes linger to the night stand once more, noticing the glass of water and two pills of Tylenol lying next to it. She smiles softly, her heart warming at his thoughtfulness.

It was undeniable that Blake started holding back less, if at all. His touches were becoming progressively more loaded and meaningful and he would noticeably fight his first instinct to hide away from her whenever his emotion hit. She’s still in a bit of disbelief over the fact that he let her hold him for hours while he poured his heart out to her, his grief and heartbreak bubbling over as she whispered gentle encouragements to let it out. That was only a month ago, the moment prompted by conversation rather than booze.

She snaps out of her thoughts and swallows back the pills he’d left for her, slowly finding her way out of the tangled sheets as she faces the closet with now both of their clothes in it. She takes in the sight a bit longer than she’d usually would, smiling at the recognition. She decides on some sweats and one of his t-shirts, enjoying the way it would swallow her entire upper body.

When she walks into the living room, she’s met with Blake sitting on the couch with what appears to be a writing pad, as his head snaps back and catches her eyes.

“Hi.” She whispers as she approaches him slowly.

He smiles his wide grin, his arm reaching out for her until she’s close enough for him to pull her into him, putting his notebook aside so he can properly cuddle her.

“There she is.” He chuckles against her. “I wanted to bring you some breakfast in bed, but I didn’t want to wake you; you looked like you needed the rest.”

“ _God_ …” She breathes, her nose nuzzling against his and placing a barely-there kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You sure know how to flatter a girl.”

“What? No, that’s not wh— “

“I’m just kidding baby.” She shakes her head jokingly while pressing another kiss to his lips before pulling away from his grasp and walking towards the kitchen.

“How about I make us some breakfast?” She asks sweetly, looking back at a semi-disappointed Blake, as he obviously wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.

“Baby, it’s almost four PM, you can _hardly_ call this breakfast.”

She rolls her eyes before casting them away from him and towards the fridge, trying to find anything useful to use. She feels him more than she hears him walking up behind her, his hands grabbing her waist while he presses a soft kiss on the back of her neck. She hums in response, backing herself up against his body as she closes the fridge.

“Blake, you can’t distract me when I’m trying to make us food.” She giggles. “You know it’s already hard enough for me to whip something up that’s edible.”

He laughs then, the shakes of his laughter vibrating against her body as she smiles.

“I’m sorry, it’s just too tempting.”

She allows herself a few more seconds of pleasure, before playfully pushing him away as she walks past him to grab some plates. Blake leans back against the kitchen counter as he watches her, taking a bit of pride in the fact that he got her so obviously affected.

She allows herself to brush up against him a bit as she moves around in the kitchen, making sure to make every bend or arch of her body more dramatic for him. He seems to finally lose his patience when she pushes up against his chest to grab one of the plates from behind him on the counter. Both his hands settle on her hips as his fingers start teasing the bare skin underneath his t-shirt she’s wearing.

The sensation catches her off guard as she starts giggling, but the laughter dies down quickly when she feels the plate slipping—looking up at him almost terrified as the glass china shatters on the surface behind them.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” She says hurriedly, slipping out of his grip. “I’m so stupid, I’m sorry.”

He looks at her a bit taken aback before he starts laughing, reaching out for her again.

“Gwen, it’s fine.” He chuckles. “You’re not stupid. Come here.”

She closes her eyes tightly, not expecting anything else but kindness from him but in that moment not able to give herself any. She feels stupid and memories she’s tried so hard to suppress come crashing down on her. When she opens her eyes again, Blake’s staring at her intensely, his arm still reaching out and waiting for her to move closer.

When she doesn’t, he speaks up again.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me, Blake. This usually doesn’t happen; I don’t know why this is happening now.”

Blake just frowns, obviously beyond confused. “Is this about the plate? Babe, it’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Let me just clean it up.” She says, ignoring the way he’s reaching out for her as she looks behind him to assess the damage.

Blake’s not about to let up so easily though, as his hand gently grabs at the top of her arm, trying to get her attention. As lovingly as the gesture was meant to be, her mind has trouble identifying it for what it is, as she yanks her arm back and walks backwards.

_“Don’t touch me.”_

She’s looking at him wide-eyed, unable to keep the hurt and regret off her face in the next instant. He in return, looks at her worriedly, his breathing slightly louder at her unexpected reaction. She takes a deep breath as she finds the courage to look at him.

“I’m sorry.” She breathes, biting her lip. “That was…. I shouldn’t have…”

“Hey, it’s okay.” He tries to soothe her, but she ends up taking a step backwards as he tries to approach her again. The fear and confusion in his eyes is breaking her heart and she knows the time is now; having held this secret from him way too long. There’s a reason for these emotions to come out now and she needs to let him in on them before they can ruin a good thing before it can even start.

“I’m gonna have to tell you some things and I need you to promise me you won’t interrupt, just listen.”

Her heart was beating out of control, the biggest part of her being just wanting to run up to Blake and have him hold her for hours while she pushed her feelings back until she felt safe again—knowing that Blake would be able to do that for her. But it’s the look in his eyes that’s pooling in them now, that has her fighting that urge.

He ends up nodding at her previous request, but there’s a hint of hesitation there that’s deeply rooted in worry. She motions towards the couch, watching as he slowly sits down next to her, his one foot leaning on his leg while his arm outstretches on the couch back behind him. Having drawn it out long enough, she finds her fragile voice coming from deep within her.

“I was about nine years old when it started. It came out of nowhere, really; for the longest time, I thought _I_ was the problem. I must’ve done something wrong for him to hate me this much.”

She can see the wheels turning in his head, but she ignores it. Instead she clears her throat and looks up for a moment, as if asking God for the strength to talk. In hindsight that was exactly what she was doing.

“My dad and I were home alone one day and he’d be doing _god_ _knows_ _what_ upstairs and I thought I’d try to make us lunch. As a surprise, you know?”

Blake smiles at her weakly, obviously picturing the innocent gesture but also sensing a bitter ending to the tale.

“I screwed it up big time, _god_ it was such a mess.” She recalls as she pictures the moment herself, the memories ever so bright. “Anyways, I ended up throwing it all in the trash and decided I would just head back upstairs and wait for my mom.”

Gwen bites back a sob as all the feelings of her childhood crash over her like a tidal wave, being in the process of sharing her darkest moments with Blake only adding to her emotional instability.

“Unfortunately he saw the mess I’d made in the kitchen before my mom came home and called me downstairs. I remember being so terrified by just his voice that I ran as fast I could down the stairs and almost fell flat on my face. Somehow I made it until I stood right in front of him and he looked at me like he wanted to hit me…”

“Gwen, did he….”

“ _Yeah_.” She affirms, not making a big deal out of him interrupting her. “He did. And many times after that, until I ran away.”

He simply looks at her, keeping his promise to be quiet. He does whoever, get up and moves over to her until he can rest his hand on her knee and squeezes. She grabs his hand and tightens her fingers around his, realizing how much she needed the support in this moment.

“He just pointed at the kitchen and started yelling and screaming, telling me how I was an embarrassment to him _and_ mom.”

“You made a mess of the kitchen.” He whispers. “Every child…”

“—He’d paid a lot of money to get it revamped only a few weeks prior.” She cuts him off discreetly, the excuse slipping out before she could stop it. “That was the first time he hit me, almost broke my arm. He made me clean up the mess, told me not to be a baby about it.....I don’t know how I did it, but I managed not to cry. I was just...”

“Numb.” He whispers, his eyes fixed on her. “Scared into hiding everything you felt because you didn’t know what else would make him hit you.”

She nods as she leans against his shoulder. “My mom came up to my room that night and hovered over me as she tucked me in and just started to cry. She knelt down and said she was sorry, said she was sorry she couldn’t stop him.”

He leans forward to kiss the side of her head, contemplating on saying something but also knowing that nothing he could possibly say would diminish any of her hurt.

“Back then I wasn’t angry at her, but _later_ …” She laughs bitterly. “I couldn’t believe she wouldn’t leave him even after knowing what he was doing to her daughter.”

Blake shakes his head. “It’s unbelievable.” He huffs under his breath.

She shrugs. “I realized she was never going to do what I secretly hoped for throughout it all and if I wanted things to change, I had to take matters into my own hands and leave.”

“And then you met me.” He says softly.

“Then I met you.” She smiles as she looks up at him. “I’d never felt freedom like that, I never thought I could trust another man, but here you were…”

“ _Gwen_...”

“It was crazy, because you made me doubt everything; you showed me what a gentle hand felt like and you would walk away or _occasionally_ roll your eyes at me when you were angry...”

“I would’ve never…” He shakes his head, unable to even say the words out loud.

“I know, but I couldn’t believe how much I trusted that you wouldn’t. I mean, I’d never known any different but somehow I believed you would always be gentle with me—I’d always be safe.”

She can tell Blake is starting to tear up at her confession and she needs to get this last part out of her so she could stop adding to his heartbreak and start working to sooth both of their hurt tonight.

“Remember how you’d tell me sometimes that you wanted me to make amends with my father?”

His breath hitches suddenly. “Jesus Christ Gwen, I’m _so_ sorry…”

“No!” She interrupts quickly, scared she unintentionally added to his guilt. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I loved you for caring so much.”

He tilts his head back slightly, swallowing loudly.

“You didn’t know.” She states softly, her hand reaching up to his cheek until he finds her eyes again. “But I did take your advice the day before you left.”

His eyes flicker with the most sadness, and she needs to swallow at her own lump in her throat.

“I wanted to start this new chapter with you and the only way I felt like I could fully dive into us, was if I at least tried to salvage some of my past.”

She watches as Blake gets lost in thought, thinking back to that final evening they spent together, his eyes filling at the memories. She knows he’s remembering the way she’d flinched when he’d gently backed her up into the kitchen counter, how she’d told him she’d hurt her back, the way she’d needed him more than ever and he brushed it off like she was being needy.

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers again, desperation, guilt and love all wrapped up into three words, a barely audible plea for forgiveness.

“I’ve never felt safer than I’d felt while I was with you all these years. After that, with Gavin…. He never physically hurt me, but I also never felt safe. It’s why we never had kids.”

She hopes that this is one of those times where Blake reads her like a book and sees between the lines, without her having to elaborate—the true meaning behind these words heartbreaking enough to think, let alone speak out loud.

“You trusted me more than anyone and I left.” He chokes out against her cheek, holding her closer than she can ever remember him doing. “Why did you never tell me before?”

“I was embarrassed.” She whispers.

He cocks his head a little, the twinkle in his eyes showing her he wasn’t completely convinced by her answer and she closes her eyes at the sight of it.

“I’m here now.” He coaxes. “And I’m not going anywhere, so you might as well tell me.”

“You’d told me about how you started taking care of your parents ever since Richie….” She starts softly, cutting herself off instead of stating the obvious. “You took it upon yourself to be the strong one for them all the time. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to do the same with me.”

There was a silence between them that lasted way longer than she was necessarily comfortable with, but she didn’t have the heart to speak and disrupt the moment Blake obviously needed. It’s not until she feels him slightly shift next to her, his hand moving up the side of her arm all the way to her cheek, that she takes another crack at it.

“I should’ve been honest with you. Maybe it would’ve changed things for the better.”

He shakes his head softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you; I should’ve been there for you.”

“You were.”

“We both know that’s not true. God Gwen, you were going through so much and I didn’t even _know_. I left you in such a painful way despite you putting all your trust in me.”

She crawls further into his side, her breath feeling a lot shakier.

“You didn’t know.” She repeats. “I just wanted to tell you now so we could both move on and really invest in this—if you still want to ofcourse. I mean, there’s so much water underneath our bridge and I just want to make sure we don’t drown in it.”

“I meant what I said earlier; I want to do everything I can to make this work this time.”

She lifts her head just slightly, but it’s enough for her to lean in for a kiss. It was a bit shy and tentative, treading lightly after everything she’s just unleashed on him. Blake’s response is cautious as well, not deepening the kiss while still making sure she feels the urgency. They separate rather quickly, their eyes locking as waves of emotions pass between them.

She blinks up at him and it seems to be the final thing she needs for the flood gates to open. She feels his finger softly brushing the tears away from her cheeks as they fall, but he doesn’t shush her or tells her it’ll be alright; he encourages her to break on him. When she finally does break down, he pulls her in tightly as he lets her openly cry into his neck.

Both of his arms are around her in a tight embrace, showing no signs of letting go anytime soon. She snuggles into his warmth and sniffs until her sobs start to slowly subside. When her sore, red eyes finally look up at him again he shoots her a gentle smile, but she can tell he’s tensed by the way his jaw tenses up, the anger towards her father palpable from every angle.

“Blake?”

He nods so softly; she wonders quickly if she’d imagined his reaction.

She continues regardless. “You finding your way back to me is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I know I haven’t told you this before, and things have been complicated, but loving you—it’s the one thing that’s always been easy. It’ll always _be_ easy.”

He bites his lip as she sees the emotion pool in his eyes, before he leans forward and kisses her. His lips and tongue work to keep her from saying another word, her own hands coming up behind his head as they rest in his curls. He lifts her on top of him in one swift movement, leaving her straddling his lap. His hand skims over her body as he stares deeply into her eyes, her head diving forward to catch his lips between hers.

“Blake, I need you right now.” She manages to pant against his lips.

“God baby, let’s move towards the— “

“—No, I want you here.” She whispers softly, a bashful blush taking over her cheeks. “Make love to me here.”

He smiles gently up at her before momentarily pushing her off his lap so he can unbuckle his belt and shimmy out of his jeans. He pulls her back onto his lap the moment he’s done, and she manages to undress whilst never fully straying from on top of him. When she’s left naked on top of him, her hands slide up his chest, taking his shirt up and off him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He says gently, watching her reactions on top of him as he caresses his hands down her body, settling in between her legs as merely a tease.

 _“Please Blake._ ”

He brings her head down so he can kiss her again, his eyes closing tightly as he pushes into her. His mouth muffles her moans as she stretches around him, the feeling of him so undeniable around her, _in_ her, sends her in a tailspin of its own.

A particularly hard thrust stills her as she feels him pushing up into her even more, her nails digging into the skin of his back as he removes the final inches that kept them from being fully joined. His hand weaves into her hair as he whispers sweet encouragements against her ear, before gently pushing her head forward so her lips can meet his.

She doesn’t even realize she’s getting emotional until she can taste the salt of her tears in their kiss and she holds on to him even tighter, afraid he’s gonna get the wrong idea. The emotions of everything she’s told him tonight, plus knowing he’s still here, start spilling out of her with every gentle thrust of his hips. He just holds her tightly against him, moving slowly in and out of her, his hand coming up to the side of her face as he stares at her lovingly.

“I love you.” He whispers.

She feels her thighs starting to tremble as her head lowers onto his shoulders, feeling her whole body stiffen before going limb in his arms. He’s only a grunt behind her, his hand softly fisting the back of her hair as he comes inside her, placing sweet kisses along the side of her neck and cheek.

When she finally regains some of her breath back, she looks up at him and skims a finger down his jaw, biting her lip.

“You’re cute, Blake. Like _really_ cute.”

“Just cute?” He whispers, the feeling of him still inside of her sending a new wave of electricity surging through her body.

“Cute, funny, _sweet_ …” She giggles when he looks semi-impressed, “…And I love you.”

His face lights up into a full-blown smile, their lips meeting for another soft kiss as she feels herself getting lost in him once more.

“Let me show you how much.”

Catching him off guard, her hands push against his bare chest until he’s laying down onto the couch and she re-positions herself so her legs are around his calves. He looks up at her amusingly, but with a hint of nervousness since he’s not used to giving the power up that often. The moment her hand slides down to stroke him, his head snaps back and his eyes close.

“Fuck babe…”

She moves lower so she’s situated between his legs as she slowly runs her tongue over his tip, smiling as she hears Blake’s appreciative growl. She goes in for the kill next, taking him into her mouth fully and closing her lips around him. Her hand gently taps at his leg, silently ordering him to look at her.

“Baby, please...” He pleads as he watches her.

She moans with in her mouth, making him groan louder as she feels his running his hands through her hair and tugging gently. She swirls her tongue around the tip a few times, watching his face as his eyes are wide open and fixated on her.

“Is this what you want, Blake?” She asks lowly as she lets him slip out of her mouth, holding him steady in her hand.

“ _Shit_.” He groans. “Baby, please keep going.”

She slowly takes him back into her mouth, relaxing her throat as she takes him as deep as she can. She makes sure to drag every touch out, until he’s cursing and fails to keep his eyes on her, his head falling back onto the cushions forcefully.

She decides to keep going regardless, relishing in the incoherent sounds coming from him. She works her tongue up and down his length a few more times, until his warning comes and he starts tugging at her hair softly. She just shakes her head, making eye contact one last time before she works him over the edge.

“Fuck.” He groans loudly, his hand tightening in her hair before letting go.

She places kisses on his inner thigh, up to his stomach until she moves her way up to the crook of his neck, nestling there. His arm comes around her immediately, holding her closely against him as he tries to even out his breathing.

“What was that for?” He asks lowly, his breathing still a bit ragged.

“Just because.” She shrugs, her nail playing with the stubble on his face.

“Are you hungry now?”

The change of subject makes her giggle into his neck, as she props up on one hand and looks at him.

“I guess I could eat something besides you now, yeah.”

He grunts while tightening his hand on her back, shaking his head simultaneously.

“ _Oh_ _my_ _god_.” She says suddenly, her eyes widening a bit. “I completely forgot about the plate, I should clean that up…”

“Babe…” He interrupts, shaking his head gently.

“ _Right._ ” She sighs, laying her head back down onto his shoulder.

“I’ll clean that up.” He says while looking down at her with a warm smile. “Why don’t I order some food? I mean, _hell_ , we’ve got a late start—by the time he’s here it’s probably dinner time.”

“I’d like that.” She whispers, smiling.

He moves her gently off him, while putting on his boxers and pants and she runs a hand down his spine as she gets ready to lose his body against hers. She doesn’t know if it’s because he’s still in a bit of a daze, but it takes him a bit longer to be all set and move off the couch. She pouts a little as she’s left alone and searches for Blake’s shirt she was wearing that’s somewhere disregarded on the floor.

She puts it back on and smiles when Blake looks back at her to find her back in his piece of clothing. He recovers quickly as he seems to remember what he was about to ask.

“You still like sushi?”

She smiles like an idiot, remembering all the times they’d order that back in the day. “Uhm, is that even a legit question?”

“California Roll, with avocado and cucumber?”

She gasps in surprise, her heart feeling like it’s growing twice its size. “Blake Shelton, if you don’t stop…”

He just chuckles before retreating back into the kitchen.

*

It’s a peaceful quietness that engulfs her this late at night. It reminds her of the earlier years with him; these moments that were so emotionally charged and meaningful, they didn’t need any specific activity to take place for it to be peaceful. Peaceful was he. Peaceful was them. It’s still like that now.

Her limbs are tangled into the soft cotton blanket Blake had gotten for her earlier in the evening, his own body plastered claustrophobically tight against her but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. Life had a way of stripping away her layers of safety until she was left a shivering mess and with Blake this close by her side, there was no way of that happening. Laying on  _their_  couch with Blake softly breathing next to her, it becomes perfectly clear that her life wasn’t meant to be a tragic love story of her never getting what she wanted or always having to fight for a love to be hers; she was meant for this man, who came back and decided to not take his second chance for granted. 

Her eyes fall on the little note pad sitting behind the arm of the couch, her mind wandering back to when she just walked into the living room today, finding Blake finishing up some thoughts, most likely lyrics. It’s weird to know that she’s been in his studio slash writers-space and has been on the receiving end of his heart spilling out, but she’s never actually gotten to read any of his lyrics. She knows he’s good—she did her fair share of looking up some of the songs he wrote for Adam’s artists, falling in love all over again with his ability to put thoughts to paper. There’s an itch in her fingers that wants nothing more than for her to reach out and grab the notebook and just read some of his purest words, but there’s too much trust and love in between them for her to give into that urge. Instead she softly uses these same fingers to tickle the side of his face, his scruff rough against her skin. 

He mumbles out in minor frustration, using his arms to pull her closer and trying to simultaneously stop her finger movements. She giggles when he groans and she doesn’t stop until he’s opened his eyes.

“Gwen?” He asks still a bit dazed.

“Hi.” She whispers, a large smile plastered on her face, despite knowing she just pulled him out of a deep sleep for no better reason than wanting to clench her own curiosity.

“What’s wrong? You can’t sleep?” His voice is incredibly low due to the fatigue and his arms tighten around her once more.

She sighs softly before sinking down a little bit until their faces are aligned and her chest is fully pressed against his.

“Nothing’s wrong. I slept a little.”

His eyes search desperately for the answer to why the hell she woke him up and they widen a bit in confusion when he senses her curious and semi-existed state. 

He groans again. “You have  _that_  look in your eyes.”

She laughs. “What look?”

“That look that tells me you’re up to no good.”

He says it so casually she can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles, her own amused state a stark contrast to his still confused and slightly annoyed one.

“Blakeee...” she giggles, her finger teasing his cheek again. “Don’t go back to sleep.”

He catches her finger in his hand and places a soft kiss on it before releasing her. 

“Why not? Isn’t it like.... in the middle of the night?”

“Why have I never read any of the new lyrics you’ve been working on yet?”

The random and direct question startles him as he starts softly shaking his head, unaware of her sighting of the note book.

“Uhm...” He stammers while trying to gauge Gwen’s face to see what’s going on, “I don’t know. You’ve never asked.”

“Can I see them?” Her eyes flicker up to his, unable to keep the innocent hope out of her voice.

He nods his head and she doesn’t know if it’s the fact that he’s barely conscious or if he’s just totally devoted on letting her in on all fronts, but there seems to be very little, if any, protest.

She lets her eyes slowly wander to the top of the couch, until they land back on the brown book that was so obviously spent as a hiding place for his thoughts. His own eyes trail her path and recognition hits quickly.

“Now?” He whispers, even though he already knows the answer.

She just nods eagerly, slowly reaching out for it and waiting for the objection he never speaks. The note book sits heavy in the palm of her hand. It wasn't a large book or particularly thick, but the meaning of his total submitting of his most honest creations to her does not go unnoticed.

She reaches for the lamp that’s in arms reach of the couch and flicks it on, watching as Blake squints his eyes and turns a bit so his face is conveniently buried in the couch cushions. 

She smiles at his boyish reaction to the light and decides to make this quick; read through some of these until most of her curiosity is stilled and she can read the rest in the morning, that way Blake can get back to getting some sleep soon too.

Her fingers slowly push between the brittle pages of the notebook, her eyes scanning over the newly uncovered handwriting that’s so _Blake_. She’s always known he could write, really write, but the maturity and poetry she finds in between these pages has her breath staggering for a few seconds. It’s clear music is the rhythm of his soul, the one thing that fuels him and allows him to understand himself. It flows through his veins and eventually pours out on these white pages.

He’s quiet while she reads, but his head does peek up from the cushions to study her tensely, the first indication of some nerves that he undoubtedly feels about this. She locks eyes with him and mouths a soft “wow” before smoothing her fingers over one particularly hard-hitting lyric. He smiles at her obvious admiration of his work and dares to scoot a bit closer to her and place a gentle kiss on her bare arm. 

It’s not until she gets to the next page that her breath staggers again, this time for a reason different than admiration. Her finger traces over the line of words as she reads them again and again, and _again_ , until she’s sure she’s tearing up. 

 _Well I don't know what to say_  
_Because there's truth to what you say_  
_I know it’ll kill you that I'm this way_  
_There's something different every day_

 _But I won’t give you what you want_  
_Not in any of these days_  
_It takes a tragedy to see what’s meant sometimes_  
_Like my concrete angel leaving this place_

“Gwen.” He says her name so softly and without needing to look at his own words, knowing exactly what she just read.

She exhales shakily, her fingers finally dropping from the page. “Do you mean it?”

Despite the meaning of his next words, he doesn’t miss a beat. “I never write lyrics I don’t mean.” 

She knows it’s his right to feel this way— he doesn’t owe her what she’s never had—but reading that any chance of it ever happening is off the table completely, shatters her more than she’d imagined possible.

“It’s too soon to think about that, I get that— “

“I’ve thought about it plenty, Gwen.” He cuts her off gently, his eyes never leaving hers. “It’s just not for me. Some people aren’t meant to be parents. You out of all people should know that.”

The shock of his words sets in on her facial features before she can even articulate a response. Her eyes grow wetter in every passing moment and she needs to catch her breath to steady herself again.

“You....” she pauses and tries again a few seconds later. “You’re out of line.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you; I want to be honest with you so I don’t lead you on.”

“No!” She shakes her head furiously, pushing herself up into a full on sitting position. “There was no need for you to go there, you have  _no right_ to use my trauma against me for your own personal gain.”

“Using your— no, Gwen, that’s not...”

“Not what you meant?” She finishes for him. She smiles devilishly before exhaling a bitter chuckle. “That’s funny. He used to say the same thing to me before he beat the crap out of me.”

She’s out of his grasp and off the couch too quickly to see him flinch at her words, but when she looks back he’s still staring at her with a look of shock on his face, his anger noticeable through his eyes.

She can feel the tension around her smothering her from the inside out as she decides to be ahead of him and speak before he can. “When where you even gonna tell me you changed your mind? Cause the last time we spoke about this, I remember you telling me that you realized you  _wanted_  to be a father.”

He stands up now too, his exhaustion long forgotten.

“The first and last time you brought it up was while you were drunk off your ass. So you tell me when the right time would’ve been.”

Things have been so good for a while, she forgot how easy it was for them to let the passion turn into something darker; something that could shred them both to pieces. 

She bites her lip in anger or sadness, she’s not even sure at this point. “I thought we wanted the same thing.”

“And we’d already established that we most likely missed our shot. Let’s just be honest with ourselves here, the chances of you getting pregnant are...”

“.... Slim. Not impossible.”

It’s his turn to shake his head. “You’re fooling yourself.”

His words sound harsh and unpolished, the way he throws them at her, but his eyes betray the level of emotion behind them. She walks closer to him until her chest is almost touching his, yet she never seeks out the actual skin on skin contact.

“You’re scared, you’re letting fear get in the way of what you want,  _again_. Don’t tell me I’m the one fooling myself when you’re the one pretending to have changed while venturing back into your old ways.”

He sighs heavily, but his face remains stoic. 

“You gotta tell me, Gwen.”

“Tell you  _what_?” She damn near hisses.

“Tell me if you can accept this for what it is, for what it will be. I can’t... I don’t want you to be with me if you’re gonna feel like you have to sacrifice a part of yourself in order to do so.”

He blinks down at her. It seems as if something registers then. He isn't the man she remembers and she isn't the woman he left behind. He left his rights with her at the door the moment he walked away. She watches him swallow at that realisation then, his Adams apple bobbing under his assessment of the situation, but she can tell he isn't quite done with her yet.

“Gwen, I shouldn’t have said some of these things. I’m trying real hard to be real with you, to not get your hopes up or lie...”

When she doesn’t reply, he’s grabbing a hold of her wrist; not in a forceful way, but enough to catch her attention and direct it back to him instead of the place she just went to in her mind. Her eyes slip open then and the moisture is now budding at the corners, threatening to overspill.

"You can’t ask me to let go of hope.” She whispers. The emotion in her words rush out of her before she can stop them. 

She feels it then, an unspoken, empty sadness that is suddenly filling her chest, his throat, her mind - the room with uncertainty. Moments pass between them as they both mirror the blankness in each others eyes, questions circulating, concern emanating, confusion heightening. Then she feels a shift between them and suddenly the pressure around her wrists is easing up.

“Gwen, I can’t, I can’t change my mind about this— please understand that.”

He steps forward then and she let his hand smooth over her cheek as her eyes close at the contact. His thumb swipes away the moisture from her tears as he moves in resting his forehead against hers, his thumb smoothing over her cheek and across her lower lip.

“If you can’t give it up, I understand that too.”

The true meaning of that statement causes goosebumps to break out over her entire body, suddenly feeling heavy on her feet. His thumb moves her lips apart gently as he tilts his head and kisses her softly, ignoring her small whimper of protest. When he pulls away, she feels like she’s barely breathing but there’s a newfound revelation laying on the tip of her tongue now.

She realizes that this is something too far out of her league, hell, she’s never even had to deal with the having children conversation since her ex-husband never brought it up and she never minded before. Blake coming back to her had been the key to opening those floodgates she’d spent so long keeping shut. There are new stirrings inside of her that she owed to herself to explore, but at the same time couldn’t force Blake into wanting to explore with her.

As heartbreaking as it is, he’s not wrong. Not about any of it.


	14. Chapter 14

Her breathing is ragged and uneven, the way her chest violently rises and deflates is starting to hurt her lungs, but she can’t catch her breath. Not with the way her fingers are clenching the kitchen counter so tightly, it’s holding all the tension in her body hostage. Not with the way Blake’s looking at her from a little distance, like he’s afraid to join her in the kitchen but also fighting the urge to walk up to her and push her against him until she’s forced to let go.

His words are ringing loudly in her ears, despite the deafening silence that engulfs them both. It’s strange to be so close to someone and yet know so little. It seems to be a common theme with them, a reoccurring fact that will never fail to leave them in a shattered mess. The kitchen is clean now, no trace left of her earlier fuck up, Blake having taken care of that discreetly, yet there’s nothing he can do to clean up the mess _she’s_ in. 

Nothing but everything.

There’s a chill running through her blood, a coldness that brings the synapses of her brain to stand still, making it impossible for her to break the silence. 

“Gwen…” Blake eventually begins softly, walking over to her slowly to see if she’d react bad to him initiating any kind of contact. When he seems sure that she doesn’t care, he rounds the corner until he’s standing in front of her at the other side of the counter. “Don’t shut me out.”

“Like you continuously do to me? Noted.” She says bitterly, her eyebrow arching upward as she shoots him a mocking smile.

She watches as he visibly gets upset in front of her, his Adams apple bobbing up and down as he swallows under her stare. _Good for him_. She’s glad to see he’s equally as uncomfortable as she is right now; he needs to feel the depth of pain he has just caused her.

“You know what…” He knocks the counter twice with flat hands, looking up at her like he just came to a certain realization. “Why don’t we just have a bunch of babies, to hell with how I feel about it? Why don’t we only talk about things when it’s convenient for you? Let’s just do everything your way, that way we can have a relationship that stays good for more than two fucking weeks.”

Her eyes narrow in disbelief over his words, not often met with this side of Blake; the one where he can truly be ruthless, the side of him that comes out when he’s pushed too far.

She chuckles lowly, despite the hurt uniting in her chest. “That’s how you feel about us?”

She brazes herself for the inevitable blunt answer she’s about to receive.

“You want control, Gwen. You want to rewrite the past instead of being here with me _now_.”

“What are you talking about?” She’s getting genuinely upset now. “When was I  _ever_  in control with you?”

“You can’t even talk to me without bringing up the past. Are you mad I changed my mind about having kids or because I changed my mind two decades ago?”

Her eyes widen. “I can be upset about both, Blake.”

He forces a small smile on his lips and it’s maddening for so many reasons.

“Yes you can. You can stay mad about the past forever, let us keep living there. Back then we were kids; you were trusting a boy. Maybe it’s easier for you to keep us frozen there, because the alternative scares you to death.”

She’s keeping a pokerface as he says it, but the words cause her lips to part beneath his gaze. She wants to whisper the only two words circling her mind right now, but instead she simply continues to watch him, her heart hammering in her chest until she needs to cough to relieve the pressure a little bit.

“Don’t do that.” She whispers.

“Don’t do what?” He pushes further. “Don’t be honest with you? Hold back, keep to myself and hide everything’s that ugly from you. Cause I recall doing that on several occasions…”

“Stop.” She hisses, her eyes watering but her anger rising. “What do you want from me right now? You want me to admit that I am afraid of loving you just to lose you? You’re right, I am. You want me to admit I’m sad to hear you changed your mind because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about being a mom to your child one day? That’s true too.”

The silence that follows is deafening, Blake’s hands tightening on the counter besides her is the only indication of him having heard her words. She can’t get herself to look up at him, unable to face the destruction they’re both in the middle of causing.

“You can’t keep things from me and then unleash them all at once in the name of being honest. That’s not how it works.” She whispers in continuation.

There’s a quietness again, but this time he breaks it quickly.

“Do you trust me?” 

She squints her eyes, not expecting that question to be the first thing coming out of his mouth. 

“You know I do.”

He shakes his head. “No.  _Really_  trust me. Trust in me that I’ll stick around. Trust in me to make you happy. Do you have that?”

Her head spins with the meaning of his question; he’s not asking her if she can trust him to not cheat or never put his hands on her— he’s asking if she trusts he could ever be enough, if she trusts _she_ could ever be enough for him.

She bites her lip so hard the taste of blood fills her mouth and she has to swallow loudly. “I know that I’ve always wanted it to be you. If it hadn’t been for you, I wouldn’t even know what love was. But I also know what I want in life now and back then, that used to align with what you wanted. Now, that seems to have changed.”

He nods once, withheld from many emotions. “That much hasn’t changed.”

“Everything has changed, Blake.”

It’s the first time she’s initiating eye contact again and she’s momentarily taken aback by the sadness prominent in his eyes; a complete paradox with how his voice sounds.

“So what do you wanna do?”

“What I _want_ , is for us to be together and be happy.” She says frustratedly, angry he still had to ask. “But it just doesn’t feel like we can do that, can we?”

He looks over at her, pain written all over his face. “What do you want me to say, Gwen?”

She huffs painfully, her eyes casting down and adverting away from him. She doesn’t know what she wants him to say, everything that comes to mind would be a lie coming from his lips. There’s nothing truthful she wants him to say—his truth will hurt her either way.

Willing the tears to go away, she creates distance between them by slowly retreating away from the counter, still unable to look at him. “Nothing, Blake. There’s nothing I want you to say.”

Before he can answer, she’s out of the kitchen area and grabs her purse, digging into it furiously.

“Gwen…” He starts carefully, afraid of making matters worse.

“ _Here_.” She says bluntly as she throws her keys on the dinner table with a loud thump. “I’ll just pack a few things and get out of here. We can take care of these boxes later…” She gestures to the few unpacked white squares stacked against the wall. “ _Or we don’t_. I just need to get away for a while.”

His steady gaze flickers from her face to the keys on the table, his bottom lip painfully trapped between his teeth.

“That’s it?” He asks lowly. “You’re just gonna go?”

“At least I’m not letting you wake up to an empty apartment.”

His face falters at her dig, but he recovers quickly.

“No. You just never unpack the boxes, always one foot in one foot out.”

There’s nothing she can do to prevent the sob from escaping the back of her throat, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as she dreads falling apart in front of him. She can sense Blake’s struggle of wanting to hug her or keep his distance and there’s a great feeling of disappointment when he decides on the latter.

“Where are you even going?”

She sniffs. “Back home.”

She watches Blake’s eyes widen for a bit, the pain of _home_ not being with him maybe even greater than the pain of watching her leave.

She collects herself enough to set herself into motion; the bedroom that just started to feel like their safe haven again is now another place she’s saying goodbye to, her fingers hurting with every piece of clothing she yanks of the hangers and throws into her small suitcase. She knows she’ll come back here, whether it’s to reconcile or get the rest of her stuff—she only needs the important things for the time being. When she walks back into the living room, Blake’s still standing in front of the counter, both hands gripping the marble tightly. His eyes close at the sight of Gwen tugging a suitcase along and she doesn’t blame him.

She tries keeping her composure as she walks away, ignoring the way her heart breaks into tiny little pieces as she watches Blake from the corner of her eyes—not moving an inch. Her shaky hand reaches for the doorknob as tears blur her vision, unable to face him as she walks out.

*

She’s seen him from the moment she entered the bar. Her face is flushed in anger, her wrath radiating off her in waves, demanding space from all those who might have otherwise been tempted to approach her, but she knows it won’t stop him from approaching her anyways. 

_She thinks she might want him to._

She studies him from the shadows as he wastes no time in plopping himself on the bar stool next to her, a smug smile on his face. She drains half the glass in front of her before acknowledging him.  

“What are the chances?” She says lowly, her leg bouncing furiously against the seat. 

“Maybe it’s faith.” He says smugly, that cocky smile still the same as she remembers.

She raises the glass to her lips once more, not stopping until all the content is gone as she slams it back on the counter. She ignores the lascivious stare from the bartender and roughly slides the empty glass in his direction. She orders another one.

She’s in enough trouble as it is; running into her ex-husband only about to add to her troubles. She doesn’t care about the man next to her— not like that anyways—she’s just after the burn.

“Rough night?” He asks.

She absently traces the rim of the glass with her index finger, staring ahead at the bottles of liquor that line the shelves behind the bar.

“Rough life.”

A glimmer of surprise and curiosity passes over his features before he motions for the bartender to pour him “whatever she has”.

“Wanna talk?”

She chuckles. “We don’t talk.”

His smirk deepens and he cocks an eyebrow, clearly unfazed by her brush-off. “You’re sitting here in a gloomy bar, looking like you’ve just been through hell. I think you really want to talk, am I right?”

His cocky attitude only succeeds in ratcheting up her anger another notch; every man in her life seems to think they know her better than she knows herself.

“I think you just reminded me of exactly  _why_  we don’t talk.” She shoots back.

He cocks his head, his intrigue mounting by the second. He slowly straightens as he gets up, but instead of leaving like she had anticipated, he moves to stand directly behind her, bracing his arms on the bar on either side of her. He leans forward, his mouth hovering over her ear. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, Gwen.”

 _You weren’t_. She thinks, but doesn’t say.

"Sit back down.” She rasps as she drowns another drink, her hand slightly trembling; his proximity is making her uneasy. 

She watches as he sits back down and she tries so hard to ignore all the alarm bells in her head. She doesn’t know what the hell she is doing; he was about to leave and she actively told him to sit back down, to keep her company.

“I thought you’d moved back to LA.” He says while sipping on the rim of his glass.

Sadness hits her so hard she’s not quite sure what to do with the feeling, so she channels it all in her tone. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“What are you doing in a bar in New York?”

She glances at him furiously. “What did I just say?” 

He huffs, his eyes scanning over the entirety of her body as he takes her in. It’s unsettling to know he knows exactly what she looks like underneath these layers of clothes sticking to her sweaty body.

“So no talking about your new life. Guess things aren’t working out so well with him after all.”

There’s a moment of surprise that outs itself as a stagger of breath, but it quickly turns into understanding; as much as she dislikes this man for what he’s done to her, he’s spent the last twenty years with her, _knowing_ her. He knows there’s no other reason Gwen would drop everything to pack up and move back to her home state except for Blake.

“Turns out I have a thing for men who keep things from me.”

He ignores the dig and looks at her expectantly.

“He cheat?”

She whips her head around so quickly she can actually feel the strain in her neck.

“He would never.”

“So what made you come back?”

She realizes he’s not gonna drop the subject, and let’s be real, she wanted his company for a reason— she wants to talk about _him_ with someone equally as screwed up as her. 

She swallows roughly. “I’m only here for a few days, clear my head, be around some familiar faces.”

“Familiar f— “

“Lizzy.” 

He hums in understanding. “She’s not here with you now though.”

“I’m staying at her place.” She says matter of factly. “Doesn’t mean I need a babysitter.”

The raise of his eyebrow shows her how forceful the words had left her mouth, but she’s too far gone to care. 

He throws his hands up in defence. “Don’t hurt me.”

She finally turns her body towards him a bit, the reality of being here with Gavin hitting her like a ton of bricks. “Can I ask you something?”

He sits back, his demeanour still overly confident but his gaze softening. “Sure.”

“Why did you do it?”

The question is broad, but she knows he’ll get it without further explanation.

His hands tighten around the glass as he swirls the bit of liquor left around. “What good will knowing that do you?”

She chuckles. “Are you really gonna start caring about my wellbeing now?” 

Something about his facial expression changes as she says it and she’d feel bad if she couldn’t still remember all the times he hadn’t come home, or the times he’d demean her to the point of anxiety attacks. 

“Believe it or not, I’ve always cared about you.”

“I  _don’t_  believe that.”

She watches his jaw tense up. “We were married for two decades, for Christ sake.”

She shrugs. “And you still did what you did. Multiple times.”

“How many times did you fantasize it was him while you were fucking me?”

Her eyes widen as she feels her throat run dry at the brazen accusation. 

“I didn’t... I’ve never...”

“We both jumped into this thing with unfinished business of our own— we both should’ve waited. Doesn’t mean we didn’t care.”

It’s weird for her to hear him talk this way; blunt but honest, addressing her with a soft voice instead of shouting. It’s allowing her to take his words into actual consideration instead of brushing the insults off as they come.

“I did love you, you know?” 

The words come out like a whisper, her chest heavy but her heart feeling like a weight is lifted off it.

He doesn’t miss a beat. “I know.”

Then a few seconds later. “Are you with him still?”

It’s a good question, one she needs to give Blake an answer to as well.

“I don’t know.”

There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that frustrates her immediately.

 _“What?_ ” She asks forcefully.

He smiles that cocky smile that’s way too familiar for her own good. “It’s just... you always do this.”

“Do what?” She urges.

“You run. You pick guys who are even worse than you, so it doesn’t show as much, but when push comes to shove, you’re just like us.”

She shakes her head furiously, motioning to the bartender for another drink. 

“Are you sure you wanna do that?” Gavin’s voice comes from beside her.

She just ignores him and doesn’t address him until the bartender slides another half full glass her way. 

“You’re wrong, I don’t run.”

“You’ve waited _what_ , 20 years for him to come back? Now he did and you’re here. Sitting with me, of all people.”

She takes another sip of her drink, ignoring the sting of his words and replacing it with the burn of her vodka.

“You don’t know anything.” She settles on saying. It sounds childish hearing it out loud and she scolds herself for not having a better comeback to his words.

“Cause you won’t talk.” He retaliates.

She wipes some of the liquor that’s sticking to her lips as she looks at him with glossy eyes.

“I was good to him.” She says angrily. “I was good to you. It didn’t matter, it _never_ matters. People are gonna hurt you no matter what you do.”

“Who told you that?”

She laughs bitterly, taking another gulp of her drink. “Love is earned, right? You do good, you _are_ good and that means you’re deserving of love. I don’t earn shit, Gavin. That’s how it goes.”

Her words are starting to slur, as she wishes this bar would just dim all its lights.

Gavin seems to still be processing her words as this might be the first time she’s been this open and honest with him. “That’s bullshit, Gwen. Everything you just said—it’s wrong.”

She shakes her head determinedly as she leans in closer into him. She doesn’t continue to talk until her mouth is basically pressed against his ear.

“Did you ever want to hit me?”

She watches his body tense up as he pulls away from her abruptly, nearly causing her to fall off the barstool, her hands gripping onto his biceps for dear life.

“Gwen, what the— “

“When you hated me, when you _wanted_ me to hurt; did you ever look at me and think it would be so easy to just knock _me_ — “

 _“Stop._ ” He hisses, his hands coming to detach hers from his arm as he stands up, motioning for her to do the same.

“I want another one.” She slurs as she ignores him blatantly and slides her glass towards the bartender once more.

“She’s done.” Gavin steadies her glass as he stares at the man behind the bar, showing his wallet to indicate he’s taking care of both their tabs.

“ _Fuck you_.” She spats angrily, making eye contact with the bartender before addressing him politely. “Another one.”

“You’re drunk of your ass and I’m taking you to Lizzy’s.”

She’s angry, she’s mortified, but most of all she’s heartbroken. She’s heartbroken and has no clue about what she’s doing, all she knows is that years of pain and tragedies are catching up with her all at the same time and she’s running out of strength to keep herself up.

“Come on.” She hears Gavin’s voice as she realizes he’s paid for their drinks and is trying to help her stand steady on her feet. “You okay?”

She feels wobbly and nauseous, but she’s suddenly too embarrassed to speak, let alone look at him. She nods in reply to his question as she feels his arm come around her back, steadying her until they’re out of the clammy bar that was about to be her undoing.

“Did you drive here?”

She takes a deep breath to get some of the fresh night air in her lungs. “I walked.”

He sighs in relief. “Good.”

“You don’t have to take me; I can walk over there myself.”

As to prove a point, he retracts his arm and waits for her to do exactly what he knows she will. She’s taken less than two steps away from him before grabbing onto the wall as she lets her back crash against it as it holds her up.

She wants to cry or scream, anything to distract her from the helpless feeling in her gut.

“You’re right.” She whispers suddenly.

He cocks his head as he approaches her and smiles gently. “I know, my car is right around the corner…”

“Not about that.” She says, finally looking up at his face. “About me running.”

He looks at her sympathetically before brushing it off. “Come on, Gwen. We don’t have to talk about that now, let me get you home.”

She keeps going regardless. “I don’t trust anyone. I try, I _try_ to trust people. I try to believe that not everyone is out to hurt me, not everyone wants to see me in pain—but I can’t. I can’t and now I’m gonna lose someone who only ever wanted to look out for me….”

“Gwen, hey look at me…” His hands are on both of her shoulders now as he tries to reason with her. “Breathe, Gwen.”

It’s not until she hears his words that she realizes she’s sobbing, her breathes getting caught in her throat as she silently gasps for air.

“I…. I love him…” She stammers. “He doesn’t want to have kids and there’s this voice in my head that keeps telling me he doesn’t think I’m good enough, he doesn’t…. _he_ ….” Her breath hitches again and Gavin’s hands on her shoulders are the only thing keeping her upright. “I can’t stop this feeling, Gavin. I can’t…. I just want the hurt to stop.”

She feels her whole body shaking and she knows something’s wrong—the look in Gavin’s eyes being the final confirmation she needs.

“I don’t feel so good.” She breathes shakily.

That's when she feels the panic become absolute; shutting down her body as fast as punching a biochemical reset button. The feeling of collapsing against his chest as his arms prevent her from hitting the ground are the last thing she remembers before it all goes black.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is very much a transitional chapter. Things are gonna change quite a bit after this, but it's all very necessary. I also want to thank everyone who commented on the last chapter, I truly do appreciate it very much. Like I said before on Twitter, this story is about two damaged people who are trying very hard to love each other the best way they know how!

_She wakes up naked and in his bed, looking around, slightly confused. "Blake?"_

_He walks out of the bathroom, a flushing noise following from behind the door. "Right here, baby."_

_"What time is it?" she asks, turning to face him in the soft cotton sheets. "I thought you’d left."_

_"It's almost eleven. You must’ve been exhausted.” He smirks, obviously referring to last night’s activities. “And where would I go, you’re at my place.” He laughs softly before sliding back under the covers. “I would never leave you like that.”_

_She giggles as he pulls her closer by the waist as she snuggles into him. "Last night was kind of incredible.”_

_It was the first time they had sex, the first time she had sex, period. His soft peck against her temple was the kind of gentle gesture she’d expected from him after last night._

_“You are incredible.” She adds in a mumble, her hand resting on his chest as her hand splays over his body, trailing along his muscles. She can’t help but moan a bit as she feels him up innocently; reminding her of just how much he had turned her on the night before— how he felt as he gently but powerfully consumed her._

_"I didn’t even know it could be like this.” He admits in a groan as he shifts his weight at the feeling of her hands moving over his body. “I’m serious, Gwen. You are something else.”_

_She moans again at his words and god, she’s such a horny and emotional mess— a happy mess though._

_"I had a really weird dream." She says softly against his neck, enjoying the way his body reacts to her simple touches._

_"About what?" He asks, kissing her._

_She kisses him back, making sure to have taken all his breath before she pulls back, hearing him gasp against her lips._

_"You. I was trying to talk to you, trying to be with you, but you were ignoring me."_

_"I could never ignore you. I could never not be with you.” He says breathlessly. "Never."_

_She smiles, moving over him. "I told you it was weird.”_

_She drops her head to his and grabs his hands, placing them both on her hips. "What were you saying? Last night. About forever?"_

_He grabs her tightly, but moves incredibly slow; partially to sense if she’s up for it again and partially because he wants her to really hear him. “I think you heard me.”_

_She moans as she lowers her midriff onto his chest and nuzzles his neck. “Tell me again.”_

_He grunts softly as his hand slides between their bodies, until he touches her where she’s been wanting him ever since she’d woken up._

_“You and me.” He says as his thumb massages her clit, her forehead resting on his as she starts breathing louder. “Forever.”_

_His other hand comes to rest on her cheek, making sure she won’t pull away and break eye contact; making this encounter just as deep and meaningful as the one they shared last night._

_“Kiss me.”_

_The words come out as a weak whimper, but she needs to feel his lips on hers as he works her so selflessly— so patiently. He complies and she gets lost, returning the kiss so eagerly like she’s demanding more from him. Her heart smiling when she realizes he’s willing to give her whatever she needs._

_"Fuck.” She whispers against his mouth, his hand not stopping his movements between her thighs. “Blake....”_

_“It’s okay.” He reassures, holding her tight as she feels her body submitting to the pleasure its feeling. “Trust me.”_

_And she does. With every fibre of her being._

_She didn’t know it was possible to give herself to someone like this, without the urge to flee, without the urge to create distance; but here with Blake, her mind is at ease. Even when he’s in the process of shattering all her self control._

_"Oh god." She moans, squeezing his hand between her legs as she feels her whole body tightening. He kisses her deeply as he keeps moving. She cries out his name into their kiss as she feels herself go completely limp on top of him._

_He grunts as she comes down, pulling away from her lips so they can both catch their breathes. “Damn, Gwen.”_

_She kisses him, rolling her hips once more for good measure. “Wow.”_

_“I could get used to this, y’know? Waking up to you in my bed.”_

_She bites her lip as she’s about to roll of him, but he holds her in place with a firm arm. “_ _You better.” She chuckles as she settles back against him._

_He smiles, gently brushing her hair back behind her ears; anything to have an excuse to keep touching her and she’s not complaining._

_“I love you, you know that?”_

_It’s not the first time he’d said that to her, but she’s still getting used to the idea of someone loving her like that. She wraps her arms around his neck, kissing the dip between this shoulder blades._

_"I love you too.”_

_In one swift movement, he has her flipped on her back, careful not to crush her as he hovers over her._

_“Forever.” She adds with a smile, biting her lip at the cheesy element but meaning every bit of it regardless. “You’re stuck with me.”_

_He closes his eyes as he places a few soft kisses across her collarbone._

_“Wherever you go I go, darling.”_

*

 

“ _Look_ , she didn’t want me to call you….”

Blake nods in understanding, his eyes hurting from the exhaustion of jumping on the next available plane after getting Gavin’s phone call. The last thing he ever expected was to be face to face with the man who’d been with Gwen for the last two decades he wasted.

“I appreciate it.” He says genuinely as he holds his hand out for him to shake. “How is she doing?”

“They wanted to keep her overnight, run some tests to rule out any serious causes to her fainting.” Gavin responds softly, the man looking genuinely shaken up.

Blake swallows. “Is she awake?”

He nods. “She woke up twenty minutes after she’d blacked out. The paramedics had already arrived by then.”

There’s an awkward silence between the two men; Blake’s discomfort growing by the second. He doesn’t know all the details of what went down between Gavin and Gwen during their marriage—he knows that he probably did just as much damage, so he tries not to travel down the road of harbouring resentment to the man in front of him.

“I’m gonna go see her.” Blake announces, feeling like somehow he owes him an explanation.

Gavin nods, but there’s a flash of uncertainty in his eyes that Blake has no problem catching up on. He waits a few more seconds instead of walking down the sterile hallway.

“It’s probably none of my business…” Gavin starts a little uneasy, his insecure demeanour not matching Gwen’s stories about him.

“But you’re gonna say it anyways.” Blake finishes.

He nods. “Whatever happened between you two….it messed her up. I’ve been with her for twenty years and never saw her like that before.”

Blake’s jaw tenses, his chest feeling painfully pressured. The feeling only intensifies when he realizes Gavin is not done yet.

“If you’re the reason for….” He trails off, but the meaning of his words is painfully obvious. “I’m just saying, you might want to take it easy on her.”

He fights the urge to argue with the man, tell him he knows nothing if he thinks he’s gonna go in there right guns blazing. Instead he wills his heart rate to slow down a bit, looking at him with all the sympathy he can muster; he wants to see Gwen as soon as possible and not waste any time on fighting a man who’s, _crazy enough_ , doing exactly what he wants to do too—look out for her.

“You don’t have to worry…” Blake rasps. “I’m here for the same reason you are.”

It’s the truth. It’s what scares him.

It seems to ease Gavin though and quickly he’s stepping aside, indicating he’s done keeping him away from her a second longer and Blake’s wasted enough time. When he approaches her room his heart constricts for a few monumental moments; she’s awake but she doesn’t seem aware of his presence from outside the window. She looks exhausted; she probably is—it’s close to morning and she’d spent the midnight hours in a panic.

He doesn’t know how she’ll react to him walking in, which causes him to halt his steps. Gavin’s words play around in his head, his own guilt and hurt circling his brain like it’s taunting him. There’s no way Gwen could ever possibly understand how much she means to him or how much hurt he feels about everything, his love for her seemingly not enough to make a difference.

Still, he couldn’t _not_ show up. 

It’s his last thought before he pushes the door open.

*

The doctor explained to her why he thought it necessary to keep her overnight, but the white walls and distinctive hospital smell makes it impossible for her to get situated. She’s never blacked out before, but she certainly hadn’t been a stranger to panic; she knew how to get through these things—she always did.

Only an hour ago the blackness of the sky was absolute, but it’s already starting to lose its battle with the darkness as dawn creeps up on her. She tries closing her eyes, knowing that if she doesn’t get at least an hour in now, she’s not gonna get anything. She lets her limbs melt into the hard surface of the mattress that does nothing to ease her discomfort.

She lets out an audible sigh as she hears the door push open, expecting either Gavin or her doctor, but her throat dries up at the sight of _him_. Maybe she should’ve expected this, but the way he looked when she left the other day made her feel like things were somehow finalized—he was done. Apparently, she was wrong.

“W-what are you doing here?” She shoots upright and she can tell by the worry on Blake’s face that he’s not comfortable with her moving that abruptly, not in her state.

He confirms her thoughts when he speaks. “It’s okay, don’t get up.”

She shakes her head. “I can move, Blake. I fainted, I’m fine.”

She watches as he battles the urge to fight her statement as he eventually settles on a plastic chair in the corner. “May I?”

She wants to say no, tell him that he shouldn’t be here, but she can’t. Her eyes cast downwards as she reluctantly nods. She feels caught between opposing needs; the one where she wants to love him and the one where she wants to push him away. She’s too tired for the latter, but this time it will be one-hundredth percent his choice.

He pulls the chair closer to her bed, sinking into it a bit uncomfortably. The plastic creaks a bit underneath his weight, but he stays quiet.

“Where’s Gavin?” She whispers.

He flinches at the mention of his name, but he keeps his voice steady and unbiased. “Outside. He’s not gonna leave until you’re out of here.”

She swallows roughly. “I told him not to call you.”

He nods his head in recognition as he bites his lip, appearing incredibly nervous all the sudden. “I know, he told me.”

There’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach at the knowledge of Blake and Gavin talking; both men knowing a great deal about each other without ever having seen each other. She’s loved them both, in very different ways, but in a lot of aspects the same. Blake has always had her heart, undoubtedly being the love of her life. Gavin had come along during a time where she desperately needed to be found—their relationship often times painful, but he became her partner for better or worse, a friend at times even.

“I know why you told him not to….” Blake continues after a while. “I even get it. We don’t have to talk about anything, I just want to be here...”

She closes her eyes, laying her head back against the pillow.

“Will you just let me be here?” He asks softly.

She nods, her eyes filling with tears behind her eyelids. “Okay.” Her reply sounds warily as she can’t even begin to decipher the tangle of emotions in her voice.

There’s so much to say, but in this moment, she decides he’s right—this is not the time and she needs to rest for as much as that’s still possible. She closes her eyes with the knowledge of him being here, he showed up and probably jumped on a red eye to do so, ignoring whatever he had going on back home. She must’ve fallen asleep with that thought, because when she opens her eyes again, they’re not alone anymore and the dark skies had officially made room for the new morning sun.

It takes her awhile to comprehend the fact that both of her ex-lovers are standing in the same room together, not necessarily acknowledging each other as they’re both busier studying her. She feels uncomfortable underneath their gaze and eventually calls them out on it.

“Guys, please…” She says groggily. “Stop looking at me like I’m dying, I’m fine.”

She regrets the words as soon as they escape her, the look on Blake’s face one of pure discomfort as she realizes how it must feel for him to be back here, this time for her instead of himself.

She can’t indulge in the awkwardness of the moment too long, as the moment gets interrupted by her friendly-looking doctor. “Ms. Stefani?”

She sits up slowly, directing her face away from the people in the room to wipe at some sleep underneath her eyes before looking back up again. She looks at him expectantly and realizes he’s waiting for her consent to inform her about her medical state with the two men standing in her room.

“It’s okay. They can be here.”

Both men seemingly relax at her words and the doctor smiles at her politely. “We ran some test and everything looks good. Your vitals are in great shape, your blood levels are good, there’s nothing to indicate an underlying medical condition.”

Even though she wasn’t expecting a different answer necessarily, she can’t help the relief that comes out as a shuddering breath.

“So she’s going to be OK?” Gavin asks, his hands fidgeting at his side as she sees him be genuinely nervous for her.

“She’s going to be fine.” The doctor smiles friendly, before turning his body to address her again. “How are you feeling, Gwen?”

Her head is pounding, but otherwise she doesn’t feel any physical trace of what happened. She wishes the whole ordeal had somehow stripped her from her memories so she wouldn’t remember how she spilled her deepest feelings to her ex-husband or how she ran away across state to not have to deal with her ‘relationship’. Amnesia would mean she could still enjoy the parts of him that have held her heart so captivated for all these years, without the added trauma of their adulthood.

“I’m fine.” She says softly, rubbing her fingers across her forehead. “Just a headache.”

“That’s common.” The older man interjects. “You experienced what we call a vasovagal syncope. That means your blood pressure dropped too suddenly, which leads to a reduced blood flow to the brain. It’s not dangerous, but it requires a bit of extra self-care.”

She shakes her head in a confused matter. “This has never happened to me before, what caused this?”

“These blackouts can be caused by a list of things; physical strain, heat exposure, emotional distress.”

She watches Blake swallow at the revelation, her own heart pounding as well. She wants nothing more but to pull Blake aside and tell him to not feel guilty, but all she could do in the moment was listen to her doctor as he tries to carefully explain what happened to her.

“Your internal panic caused your nervous system to malfunction, that’s all this was. You’re going to be completely fine. I’ll get you your release form so you can go home and rest. In the meantime, I’m gonna need you to stay hydrated and avoid any substances that can intervene with your psyche for _at least_ a few days; alcohol, drugs, even caffeine.”

She nods profoundly, trying her best at cracking a smile at the overall good news. “Thank you.” She says genuinely, her voice a bit hoarse—her emotions still heightened.

Both men wait until the doctor has left the room to start talking.

_“I’m so— “_

_“Do you feel like— “_

Blake and Gavin exchange a look as they start speaking at the same time, Gavin eventually being the one to start off the conversation as he walks closer to the bed.

“I’m so relieved it’s nothing dangerous. Jesus Gwen, you scared the shit out of me.”

She’s gotta admit; she didn’t expect Gavin to stay with her all night, especially considering he wasn’t the one to get to stay with her these last few hours. She smiles at him gently, trying her best at soothing his nerves.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” She says softly.

She looks over at Blake who’s standing a few feet away, looking at the exchange a bit uncomfortably. She doesn’t envy his position; she doesn’t know how she would’ve acted if she had to be in a room with Blake and Miranda, the thought alone making her cringe.

“I think you should let me drive you to Lizzy’s when you’re done here.” He says suddenly, his eyes never wavering from hers.

She swallows roughly, trying hard not refrain from looking Blake’s way. Instead she slowly gets up and finds the jacket she’d been wearing when she came in here, throwing it over her shoulders without putting her arms through the sleeves.

“Oh Gavin, no that’s okay. I can get there myself.”

“Gwen, just let me— “

“She gave you your answer.” Blake interjects suddenly, done with standing at the sidelines apparently.

“ _Yeah_ , I think you need to stay out of this one.” Gavin sneers back.

She gives him a warning stare, before looking back at Gavin. “I really appreciate the offer, I mean that.”

“Then accept it.”

Blake steps a little bit closer to them, his patience seemingly wearing thin, but the close to escalating situation gets interrupted by her doctor as he comes in with the release forms. She’s grateful for the interruption, the tension in the room suddenly at an all-time high and she’s not sure she’s got what it takes to defuse—or deal with it.

Finally putting her jacket on appropriately, she walks up to Blake as he looks oddly conflicted by how to handle the whole situation. “Where are you staying?” She asks softly.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I jumped on a flight and came straight to here.”

She bites her lip as she looks down, afraid of what the emotions on her face might suggest. “I’m gonna go back to Lizzy, take a shower, put on some clean clothes…”

Blake hums in understanding, not interrupting. “After that, maybe we can talk somewhere?” She adds a bit unsurely.

A sigh of relief escapes Blake’s lips at the offer and she realizes how he must’ve expected her to say something else. He doesn’t have to know that she _almost_ _did._

“Take your time.” He says softly. “Text me the time and place.”

She smiles gratefully at his response as she feels Gavin walk up to them, the smile quickly falling from her lips as she watches Blake’s jaw tense. She needs to get out of this room and more importantly, she needs to get these two guys away from each other.

“Gwen, we’re not at that bar anymore, you’re in the hospital and you don’t have your car. Can you please stop being stubborn and just let me take you home?”

She closes her eyes at his mention of the bar, as she can only imagine all the scenarios going through Blake’s head. The annoyed smirk on Blake’s face tells her he’s already struggling with not turning around and punching the guy—his self control in this situation something she has to compliment him on later.

“I’m gonna text Lizzy, ask her to come pick me up.”

Gavin nods. “Then I’ll stay with you until she gets here.”

She knows Blake too well and before she can stop it he turns away from facing her and walks closer to her ex-husband, her firm whisper to stop him completely ignored.

“What’s your problem, man?” Blake asks angrily, his head shaking. “I don’t know what you think is going on here, but up until further notice she’s still my girlfriend. I get that you were there when things went wrong and I’m grateful you took care of her, but know your place.”

Gavin cocks his head mockingly. “And what exactly _is_ my place?”

“You’re her ex-husband.”

“And you’re the guy who got her in here; you really want to talk about what _my_ place is?”

A few intense beats pass between them before Gwen exhales shakily and comes to stand between them, holding her hand out as to indicate no one’s allowed to take another step.

“Stop.” She hisses at them both. “I’m sorry this is awkward; I wish none of this would’ve happened and neither one of you had to be here right now—but this is where we are. Can you guys just please, please don’t do this?” She whispers, a darkness imbedded deep within her irises.

They both look at her slightly dazed, their apologetic look quickly replaced by each other’s annoyance again, but they do seem to bury the hatchet for now.

Gavin is the first to throw his hands up. “Fine, I’m sorry. Just…. I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

She waits for the door to fall back into its hinges before she addresses Blake, making sure they’re alone. “Blake, listen to me, I can’t tell him to take a hike—not after…”

“Don’t tell me.” Blake interrupts adamantly, his face looking like he just got punched. “I don’t wanna know what he saw or what happened between you two….”

“Nothing happened.” She breathes. “Nothing happened, Blake.”

He sucks in a loud breath. “We can talk about this later, I don’t want you to get yourself worked up over this.”

Her hand slowly finds its way to his wrist, holding him steady in her grip. “This wasn’t your fault.”

He smiles at her weakly before gently pushing her hands off his wrist, the movement saddening her but not quite surprising. She wants to get out of here, she wants to refresh and meet Blake somewhere so they can talk— _really_ talk. There’s too much grey area for either one of them to be comfortable and Blake didn’t fly over to New York to be with her only to feel betrayed.

“Give me a call when you’re ready, okay?”

His hand moves to the nape of her neck as he places a kiss on her forehead, pulling away just in time to watch her nod.

*

Getting rid of her clothes that smelt like alcohol and hospital was the change she needed to feel somewhat decent. Lizzy had immediately made it her mission to take care of her and she didn’t stop her friend; she ate some breakfast, got some time to rest and found some neatly folded and freshly washed towels ready for her on the vanity, showering away the last remnants of last night.

Her hair is up in a tight bun, some jeans and an oversized sweater the best she could do today. Despite the shock of everything that happened, her mind was mostly on Blake and the conversation they need to have. He was telling the truth back in the hospital—he did wait for her text message to come in and didn’t try to reach out sooner. She doesn’t know what he’s been doing all this time or where he’s been staying, but it’s early in the afternoon when she texts him finally. He doesn’t seem upset about having to wait, instead, he appears relieved she took her time.

Texting him Lizzy’s address was weird for several reasons. She always imagined that if she ever got the luxury of inviting him here, it would be to introduce the two most important people in her life—instead Lizzy offered to finish up some work at the office for a few hours so Gwen could have a place to talk to Blake. It’s the kind of selfless act she expects from her friend, but it’s not the way she pictured having Blake over here.

Her nails tick nervously against the small coffee table in front of her, her legs crossed as she sits on the couch waiting for him. She jumps at the sound of two careful knocks on the door and she wills herself to calm down once more—her inner peace still too easily disrupted.

She’s met with an equally as disrupted looking Blake when she opens the door. She tries her best at a faint smile as she lets him in, leading them to the living room area. “I’m sorry it took so long.”

He waves his hand in a dismissive manner. “Don’t be. You needed the rest.”

She nods before sitting down, the couch dipping slightly as Blake does the same, keeping a respectful distance between their bodies. It’s slightly awkward to sit there underneath his gaze, but she also enjoys his proximity as always. It’s a constant paradox.

“I gotta know.” He says softly, his jaw clenching as he looks at her.

There’s a surge of guilt that courses through her, despite not having done anything with Gavin last night. She knows it’s his right to ask—his earlier reaction too good to be true.

“I didn’t lie.” She looks at him nervously, every fibre in her being wanting to look away and break eye contact, but she knows he deserves more. “Nothing happened last night. I ran into him in a bar and…. we talked. That’s it.”

He bites his lip. “About us.”

She nods truthfully. “About a lot.”

He looks at her with so much rawness; like there’s not one single layer he’s not letting her in on and she feels the tears spring to her eyes instantly. She’s never wanted something to work out this badly, her own desperation mounting.

“I shouldn’t have done it.” She admits. “I shouldn’t have talked about us with _him_ , that wasn’t right. If anything, I should’ve called you.”

“Talking doesn’t lead anywhere with us lately.” He replies.

His tone was gentle but the honesty in his words is one that’s hard to swallow. In a perfect world, she’d wrap him up and protect him from everything that could possibly hurt him in this world—including herself. She wants to love him with a love that will never hurt him, only treasure him. It’s torture to feel so close to someone yet so far away at the same time.

“I never really had to talk.” She murmurs quietly as she lets her admission float between them for a bit. “I grew up thinking it was safest not to talk, to just feel your feelings alone and survive on your own. When I met you, that was the first time I started letting my guard down but we were kids then—I didn’t even know _what_ there was to talk about.”

She feels a fresh wave of tears come over her, almost preventing her from continuing but Blake’s voice brings her back. “Keep talking to me.”

She shudders in a broken breath.

“Sometimes I wish I could just show you what’s inside of here…” She says with a painful laugh as she points her index finger towards her brain. “It’s a jumbled mess right now, but it’s real. You’d see that I love you in the most genuine way possible.”

She closes her eyes against her own words—not meaning for the words to have come out sounding that vulnerable, but she doesn’t take them back.

“I know you love me.” He tells her.

“Love isn’t supposed to hurt.”

Blake falls quiet at that and she feels herself losing the battle with every wall she’s so carefully built to protect herself.

“Gwen….”

“ _I know._ ” She breathes.

She expects him to get up now, but instead he stretches out his arm as invitation. He keeps his eyes on her as she reluctantly gives in and closes the distance between them, her head leaning on his shoulder as she allows him to hold her.

“I used to think that loving someone unconditionally meant you’d sacrifice yourself for that person; you’d walk right into the flames and never so much as blink. They forget to tell you that all that pain can be dangerous to the exact person you’re trying your best to love.”

Blake leans back a little so he can look at her properly. “Are you talking about you or me?”

She smiles weakly. “I think the fact that we can both relate is exactly the problem.”

His eyes soften as they cast over her face, emanating with resigned sympathy and understanding. It’s that look that keeps her warm despite the world’s best efforts to drag her down into the coldest parts it has to offer.

“Do you feel safe in this moment?” He whispers.

The question is so random it fuels a natural moment of silence between them as her brain processes what he’s asking. When it clicks, she can’t help but to softly break in his arms, grateful for his ever-so tight grip on her. No one has ever asked her that so straightforwardly before. He knows she’s not coming back with him, he knows she’ll remember this moment as another abandonment and he’s making sure she feels differently than the last time—he wants her to feel safe in attempt to lessen her hurt.

“I always have.” She whispers through her tears, dreading the moment he’ll have to leave.

He tosses a soft smile her direction, his eyes staying connected with hers the whole time. “I still believe it’s you. It will always be you.”

She’s the first to break eye contact, her cheek pressing more firmly into his shoulder as she clutches his arm. Her tears soak the fabric of his shirt where she’s pressed against him, but he doesn’t seem to care as his arm tightens around her again.

“We’ll keep talking?”

He rocks her gently. “We can call, text...”

The tremor in his voice shows her he’s equally as effected and she wishes she was stronger in this moment; wishes she could turn the tables on them and cradle him against her, soothing his fears instead of getting soothed. She knows she can’t, so she gives him the one thing she does have to offer: the truth.

“It’s just temporary." She breathes, her hand running up and down his chest. “We’ll find our way back to each other.”

She can almost feel the relief setting into his chest and she relaxes into his hold in response. She’ll be the first to admit this isn’t ideal, the thought of Blake going back to LA without her sending a new batch of tears straight to her eyes, but she also knows that they have something worth fighting for. She won’t be able to give him up and she knows he won’t either. Time apart is all they can try in hopes of growing back together.

Blake seems convinced they will.

He nuzzles the side of her head as he whispers a promised forever against her hair.


	16. Chapter 16

“Will Blake be there?”

The phone had woken her up, her friend forgetting about the hours she’s ahead, as she calls her before going to bed.

Behati chuckles. “It’s Dusty’s birthday,  _ofcourse_  he’s going to be there.”

Gwen grimaces a bit as she tightens her hold on her phone. “Bee, I don’t know...”

“What?” Her friend exclaims. “Blake told us you two still talk, did something happen?”

She shakes her head quickly, forgetting her friend won’t be able to see. “No, we’re good. We’ve been talking a little but just as friends and only via text. I just don’t want—-“

“It’s not like I’m setting you two up for a date”, Behati interrupts. “It’s a children’s party, for crying out loud. You haven’t even met her yet and I’m dying to see you again too, Gwen. Please, just— “

“Okay!” Gwen laughs as she bites her lip nervously. “Fine, you’ve convinced me.”

She can hear Behati cheer on the other end of the line, as she can do nothing but smile at her friend’s excitement. 

“It’s gonna be good.” Behati promises. “It’s not too long either, if you want you can stay the night here.”

She didn’t get as far as to think about that, her brain also still a bit behind after being yanked out of her sleep. She thinks for a few moments before answering.

“You sure Adam won’t mind?” She asks hesitantly.

“Are you kidding me?” Behati damn near yells. “Gwen, we’d be honoured to have you here—you know you can stay as long as you want.”

“It will only be for a day.” Gwen chuckles.

“We miss you.” Her friend confesses quietly. “ _I_ miss you. I’ve got to see you once when you moved out here and now you’re gone.”

Gwen sighs heavily. She can’t deny that Behati has been on her mind quite a bit, leaving LA behind also meaning she once again had to say goodbye to her friends—the ones she just got back. Regardless, she knows it’s the right thing to do. These last two months of being back in New York have been both challenging as they’ve been healing; she’s single for the first time in over twenty years, she’s been staying at Lizzy’s ever since which had proven to be something she needed; the simple act of hanging out with friends something she didn’t do nearly enough of. She’s even gone as far as seeing a therapist.

Change has been good so far.

“I miss you too.” Gwen responds gently, wishing she would see her more often.

A high-pitched giggle floats down the line, directly into Gwen’s ear. “I’m sorry, I’m still not used to having my friend back.”

She turns on her side, her eyes closing momentarily. “Me neither.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Behati asks hesitantly. “If it’s too personal or if you don’t want to talk about it, just say the words.”

She can guess where this is going, but she’s in a good enough place to answer questions about this now. Besides, Behati is the only one who truly knows them both; it’s easier to talk to her about Blake than it is with her friends back here.

“You can ask.”

“Do you miss him?”

Gwen squints her eyes. “We still talk.”

“As friends.” Behati chimes in. “But do you miss him as more?”

Blake’s presence will forever be powerful in her life, having him as a friend does a lot to guide her through what could’ve been the loneliest time of her life. There’s a warmth and safety in talking to him, even if it’s just via text, even if they’re just friends.

“I miss being around him, yeah.” Gwen admits. “But he tells me about his day, about work, we talk about things we usually never talked about, you know? It almost feels like it’s…. better.”

“Better than when you were dating?”

“We just didn’t talk.” She repeats, not sure how to explain what she feels. “We talk now. I’ve missed out on so many years with him, it’s like totally getting to know him all over again.”

Behati hums in understanding. “He’s definitely changed as a person.”

“He has.” Gwen confirms. “We both have.”

He’s a grown man now. He’s been through more hardships than she can imagine, the pain that has harboured into his soul a devastating thing to know about, let alone feel. It took for her to look at her own pain, for her to truly understand the magnitude of the emotion. It’s not fair to hold him to expectations she knows he can’t meet. It’s been a thrilling revelation to find out she can do without most of the ones she put on him.

“Look, Adam and I couldn’t possibly be more different. I’m just saying, I don’t see any reason why this thing couldn’t work out again.”

“Bee, I swear to God, if you try anything at this party…”

“I won’t.” She interrupts. “Scout’s Honor.”

She smiles into her pillow; the familiarity of hanging on the phone with Bee making her both incredibly nostalgic and equally as happy. It’s not until a row of yawns escape her, that she realizes she’s too tired to continue this conversation.

“I’ll see you at her party then. I really _am_ excited.”

“Just a few more days.”

*

She’s not sure how she’s managing at looking not only presentable, but seemingly unfazed by the gruelling hour she had to hop on a plane for. She’d barely slept last night, the reality of the situation all a little bit too insane; on top of seeing Blake again for the first time in nearly three months, she’s also about to stay the night at Adam’s and Behati’s place like in the old days. Oh, and she can’t forget about meeting Dusty for the first time.

She smooths her hands down her tight black jeans, doing her best at getting rid of the clamminess of her palms as she takes a deep breath in, straightening her flowery white blouse while she’s at it. There’s no need for her to be nervous she reassures herself—Dusty is too young to really get a bad impression of her anyways and everyone who’s about to be there, she’s known for over two decades.

“Gwen, you’re here!!!”

She’d barely set foot in their apartment before Behati wrapped her up in a tight hug, checking her friend out before whistling low in her throat. “You look amazing.”

Gwen shakes her head, compliments not easy for her to accept as she smiles. “You’re crazy. Happy birthday to your little one.”

Bringing the conversation back to the birthday girl seems like the appropriate thing to do and guessing from the smile that edges on her friend’s face, she seems to agree.

“Come in, put your bag in the corner…” Behati says excitedly, pointing at the travel bag Gwen brought with her for the next few days. “Gosh, I’m so happy you’re here. I can’t wait for you to meet her; Adam is pulling her away from the guests as we speak.”

“Oh you don’t have to….”

But her objection is quickly forgotten as she watches Adam approach them, the little girl a spitting image of her mother. Her small fingers are lazily entangled with Adam as she looks slightly annoyed about getting dragged away from her party. Gwen swallows at the sight of Adam’s apparent love for her as she looks over at Dusty and smiles.

“My name is Gwen.” She says softly. “You look really pretty. Is that _your_ dress?”

She’ll be damned if she can help it—fashion will always be the easiest conversation for her to spark, even with five-year olds it appears. Dusty’s smile becomes wide as she lets go of her father’s hand. “Mommy bought it for me as a present. I can wear it only at party’s so I don’t rip it.”

Gwen smiles at the adorable words, before shooting Behati a soft look. “You look beautiful. Like a real princess.”

The little girl is all smiles as she flaunts her outfit, getting too excited to be contained for much longer. Gwen’s getting ready for the inevitable walk off when Behati comes to stand next to her daughter.

“Baby, Gwen just introduced herself to you.”

Recognition seems to dawn over her as she looks a bit flustered. “I’m Dusty.”

Gwen chuckles. “It’s very nice to meet you, sweetheart.”

When she looks up at Behati she can tell there are many emotions there, her own heart feeling a little heavy too at only ever meeting her now; but there’s another part of her that just got healed by getting introduced to her best friend’s new life. Dusty seems completely unaware of the emotions brewing between the adults and sprints off the moment Adam nods in allowance.

Behati sighs before hugging Gwen again. “Thank you for being here.” She whispers against her hair. “I needed this.”

Gwen can do nothing but hold her in return, every moment she gets to spent with her long-lost friend a reminder of why she’s always loved her so much. “I needed this too.”

Many people pour in after she’s situated and before she knows it, she’s getting pulled into different conversations, all with people she’s never seen before. She sometimes forgets how good she used to be at this; making small talk, fitting in. Everyone seems to get along great with her, making her feel like she’s part of this group too, rather than just intruding. Her eyes roam around the decorated living room, some guests venturing outside into the backyard to have conversations without a bunch of excited toddlers screaming around in the background.

There are an incredible number of people here, probably a testament to Behati since she’s always been the popular one. She can’t deny she’s been trying to catch a glimpse of Blake ever since she got here, but he’s either not here yet or is doing a great job at staying out of her way.

“If you’re looking for Blake, he’s running a bit late.” Adam’s voice startles her when he sneaks up at her from behind, causing her to clutch at her chest.

“Jesus Christ Adam, you’re trying to give me a heart attack?”

He chuckles. “I’m sorry. I just noticed you looking around like you were hoping to find someone.”

Her cheeks flush a little at getting caught red-handed, but she recovers like a pro. “Actually, I’ve been having a lot of fun talking to your friends.”

His eyes seek out hers, holding eye contact long enough for her to falter as she laughs. Adam seems content with the reaction he just got from her, not needing much more to proof his point. The moment gets interrupted when Dusty runs up to her dad, nearly knocking into Gwen’s leg in the process.

“Mommy says I can have _another_ slice of cake if you help me cut it.”

The five-year old tugs at her dad’s sleeve to drag him into action and Gwen can’t help but smile at their interaction.

“She said that, huh?” Adam plays along. “Well, if they’re mom’s orders….”

“They are! They are!”

The kid’s already close to jumping through the ceiling, the added sugar rush probably doing nothing to calm her down as Adam’s laughs. Despite her many efforts, there’s no way of stopping her train of thoughts that wonder if having a child is indefinitely out of the picture for her; the joy of having her own child making her laugh only a farfetched fantasy that haunts and follows her into the depths of her soul where hope lingers.

Adam is about to grant the happy child her wish when a familiar voice stops them all in their tracks. “Someone told me I could find my favorite girl out here.”

Instantly Dusty’s hand lets go of Adam’s as she whips around to find Blake standing only a few feet away, a big smile on his face as he holds an even bigger present.

“Uncle Blake!”

The girl runs into him with such force she can actually see his large frame falter a bit as he bends down and scoops her up with ease. The joyful laughter that spills from Dusty’s lips as he holds her sends a wave of mixed emotions over her, Blake’s eyes finding hers briefly before returning all his attention to the little girl in his arms.

“I’m sorry I’m late, they made me wrap this thing all by myself.” Blake sets her back down on the ground gently, smirking proudly as he makes the five-year old giggle at his joke. “Are you wondering what’s in it?” He asks as he nods towards the box with purple wrapping paper.

Dusty nods, her tiny hands already reaching for the present. “I want to open it.”

Blake crouches down to her level, pushing the gift towards her as he motions with his hand for her to go ahead. Both Adam and Gwen walk a bit closer so they can watch as the young girl slowly, but chaotically, reveals what he’s gotten for her.

“UNCLE BLAKE, YOU LISTENED.”

Her shriek is so loud, Gwen can do nothing to prevent the laugh escaping her throat, looking sympathetically at Adam as the present is revealed; a shiny pink microphone with a matching pedal for musical effects is soon being ripped from its box.

“I told you I do that sometimes.” Blake answers her proudly, standing up eventually as his knees probably start to cramp from being down there too long.

Adam shakes his head jokingly as he approaches his best friend. “You really gave my daughter a karaoke set. Are you trying to kill us?”

“Remember when I told you I’d get you back for the many times you called me out of bed to listen to one of your new artist? This is it.”

Adam laughs as he pets him on the shoulder twice. “Touché. Did she really ask you for this?”

Blake shrugs. “More or less. She said she wanted to be a singer like the ones her dad works with.”

With Dusty occupied and Adam going over there to show his interest, Gwen finally gets her moment alone with Blake as he walks up to her slowly. She’s a bit surprised when he doesn’t think twice about hugging her, but she’s not complaining. Instead, her arms find their way around his back as she inhales the scent of his aftershave and soaks in the feeling of him holding her again.

She misses the feeling immediately when he pulls back, but she tries her best not to let it show too much. He smiles down at her, his arms falling back to his side.

“You look beautiful.”

She blushes before making eye contact with him again. “You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

He pretends to be shocked by her response, pointing his fingers towards himself in a dramatic manner. “Is it the shirt?”

She laughs, but before she can answer he’s talking again—taking the piss out of the both of them. “Cause the lady in the store said this colour made my eyes pop.”

She chuckles at his horrible attempt to talk fashion as she raises her eyebrows. “Blake, your shirt is _literally_ black.”

“Are you saying she lied?”

“I’m saying you don’t need the shirt for that.”

She feels embarrassment flushing her cheeks as she realizes how that just sounded, internally freaking out about blatantly flirting without necessarily meaning to. Despite his earlier mocking’s, he doesn’t pay her comment any mind—either not noticing or not wanting to add to her visible bashfulness.

He smiles softly. “I heard you’re staying the night here.”

She nods fiercely, grateful for his change of subject. “Yeah, Behati offered and you know how those go…”

“Ah, Bee’s famous ‘offers’; you never stood a chance.”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re here, even if it’s… _here_.”

There’s a bit of sadness in her smile, understanding the meaning of his comment and feeling the same way about it. She doesn’t get much of a chance to respond, before he’s being pulled aside by a group of strangers, that aren’t strangers to him, reminding her of how he’s not the odd one out here and she must share him with a bunch of others who are blinded by his charismatics.

*

“Dusty, you wanna say goodnight to Blake and Gwen?”

Behati smiles at them both sitting on the couch, a warily and exhausted version of Dusty slowly approaching them, going up to Blake first. He scoots forward a little so he can talk to her more easily.

“I don’t wanna sleep, Blake. I wanna sing.” The five-year old whines while simultaneously letting out a yawn.

Blake doesn’t miss a beat. “I thought you wanted to be like the girls your dad works with?”

A confused look falls over the kids face as she looks up at Blake expectedly. “They don’t sing when they’re exhausted. They sleep so they can sing when they wake up. It sounds better that way.”

Dusty rubs at her eyes tiredly, squinting up at him again. “You sure?” She mumbles.

“Positive, buddy.” Blake says gently.

He speaks to her with the utmost care and patience, exactly like Gwen envisioned he would if he ever had a kid of his own. Her heart both melting and constricting at the sound of it. She doesn’t think she can ever hear enough of it, despite the painful moments of confrontation.

“Goodnight Blake.” She watches as Dusty leans into him softly, Blake’s arm coming protectively around her as he speaks a soft ‘sleep well’ in her ear.

She’s almost kind of expecting the kid to walk off after that, but she turns to Gwen next, her tiny arms surprisingly initiating a hug from her as well. She smiles softly as she wraps her up in a hug of her own, leaning back to look at the little girl she’s only known for a day.

“Are you still gonna be here tomorrow?” She asks softly.

Gwen nods gently, her hand pushing a strand of her blond hair out of the child’s face. “I am. Is that okay with you?”

Dusty nods. “I can show you my room then.”

“I’d like that very much.” Gwen smiles before Dusty says all her goodnights and disappears into her room with her mother.

Gwen lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding—a child saying goodnight should not be this intense, yet there was this rush of relief that washed over her at the realization Dusty seemed to like her well and many new emotions grew at the sight of Blake interacting with her so sweetly. As if he reads her mind, his eyes find hers as he winks at her, his own eyes clouded by emotion as well; the stunning deep blue held a truth that his face couldn’t—or wouldn’t—hide. Perhaps their eyes had to be washed by emotion so they could start seeing clearer again, her hand reaching out for his arm as she squeezes softly, keeping the contact minimal but nevertheless encouraging.

Without much further ado, he leans into her space a bit before motioning her to lean closer. When she does, he speaks softly. “Do you have some time to go somewhere?”

Her eyes widen as surprise covers her features. “Right now?”

“Just for a little bit. I wanna show you something.”

He says the words loud enough for Adam to hear and she turns her head to look at the man a bit apologetically, feeling bad about leaving when she’s literally their guest.

“We’re gonna be cleaning for a while anyways.” He points out quickly, reassuring her. “You might have a bit more fun with that dumbass, than staying here and watching Behati work herself into a panic over the mess.”

Blake rolls his eyes as he leans back against the back of the couch, giving his friend the finger. “Serious question, does your wife think you’re funny?”

“I do, actually.” Behati chimes in as she appears back into view, smiling widely as she blows her husband a kiss. “ _And you_ ….” She says while looking at Gwen. “You need to get out of here and go with Blake. Don’t worry about us.”

“Are you sure?” Gwen asks hesitantly.

“I’ll give you our key.” Behati answers confidently. “Go!”

*

The only thing heard in the car was the soft music playing, slow 80’s rock tunes filling the otherwise silence. There’s not much need for talking, her body relaxing into the leather seats while looking out of the window at the once so familiar place. Being here with Blake brings back so many memories, filling her both with hope and nostalgia. It’s until he’s missing not only the exit to his place, but also the one that leads to the studio, that her curiosity is officially spiking out of control.

She looks over at him, his face cool as ever. “Blake, where are we going?”

He smiles without turning his face away from the road. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

If it hadn’t been for her not living here anymore, it still would’ve been a challenge to make out where they were going, underneath a blanket of dark skies. The road seems to stretch on forever, every stoplight or curve he passes making her that much more restless; she’s never been one for surprises—and he’s never been one to care about that.

“We’re almost there.” He reassures, as he can possibly feel the nervous tension mounting next to him.

She squints her eyes as he pulls up at a parking lot, letting the car come to a full stop before looking at her. She raises an eyebrow, still clueless as she looks out of the window and tries to figure out where he took them.

She shakes her head in confusion. “Blake, I don’t get it.”

He motions for her to get out of the car, locking it when they’re both standing out on the parking lot, the cool air causing her to button up the last two buttons of her coat. It takes about five seconds after that for the location to sink in, the revelation right before her eyes.

Her lips stretch into a wide grin, before she looks up at him in amazement. “No way.” She whispers.

She’d been here so many times before; the diner used to be bursting with people, the décor of the place the ugliest shade of orange, but it made Gwen happy and Blake never was good at resisting her when she got truly excited. They’d be there after school and in the weekends, not having to pay much since Blake’s parents knew the owners well. The best memories were not the ones they made inside of this place though—it were the ones they made outside, when the weather was nice and milkshakes for sale; sitting on the top of the trunk of his car as he looked at her with so much wonder it could’ve killed her altogether.

The place had lost its shiny colour, the frontage as grey as the smooth concrete at her feet and the sign that used to hang behind the door was replaced with a neon hanger that looked like something straight out of a western movie.

Blake chuckles. “It’s not a diner anymore, as you can see. It closed a few years ago, got transformed into whatever this is…”

“What happened to it?” She asks softly, taking in the new décor.

“The usual.” He replies equally as soft as he comes to stand beside her. “They couldn’t compete with the scene. They got bought out and retired—it’s not bad though, they were here for over ten years.”

Gwen nods as she feels a pang of sadness over the fact they weren’t able to keep this place running, despite the realistic picture Blake sketched for her.

“But….” He says excitedly. “For now, that doesn’t matter.”

She bites her lip before cocking her head.

“What do you mean?”

“ _I mean_ , that this parking lot hasn’t changed at all and I still have a car…”

He holds his hand out for her to take and she looks at him a bit sceptically before relenting and gently letting him lead her away from the front of the car, until they reach the trunk, his hand gently patting it twice. “For old times’ sake, what do you say?”

She looks at him with a smirk, her hand running through her hair nervously. “Are you kidding?”

He shakes his head. “Not at all. Hop on there.”

She smiles bashfully, slowly backing herself up against the back of his car before slowly lifting herself on the top of the trunk. Her feet dangle in front of his license plate, as he stands so close to her she can almost feel him press against her knees.

She looks up at him with a smug smile. “Sometimes your ideas are cute, you know that?”

The street light somehow made the features on his face look softer, the look in his eyes showing her he was proud of himself. His hand reaches forward to lean on the top of the trunk next to her body, shifting so his back leans against the car, giving her a bit more personal space.

“I figured you might like it.”

“I love it.”

He smiles, but stays quiet. She follows his gaze over the empty parking lot, wondering if he’s taking the same trip down memory lane she just came back from.

“The party was nice.” She says suddenly, waiting for him to look at her. “Dusty really loves you.”

Blake’s face softens at the mention of her name, holding her gaze. “She’s a great kid. Stubborn like her dad though; he’s gonna have his hands full with that one.”

She chuckles. “Something tells me he can handle it.”

“I don’t even want to think about her becoming a teenager.”

He seems to regret letting that slip, the words giving away his parental feelings towards the child without meaning to. Her own heart skips a few beats at it too, but she’s determined to not let it show.

“Is it weird that I’ve missed your voice?” She asks, a hint of embarrassment in her tone.

If this time away from him has shown her anything, it’s that she can live without mellifluous sound of his voice in her ear but, god, she doesn’t want to.

He looks at her briefly, pretending to think over her question as he smiles widely. “Yeah, that’s weird.”

Her slim fingers fly over her mouth as she tries to disguise a laugh. “Well, I did.”

His hand slides over until it reaches hers, brushing her finger so softly she feels the need to just grab his hand and intertwine their fingers but she lets him set the pace, her heart beating fast at the new yet familiar stirrings he brings alive within her.

“Do you remember the last time you stayed over at Adam and Bee’s place?”

“ _Oh my god_ , Blake.” She squeals mortified.

His eyes widen as realization dawns on him and he can’t help but laugh. “Shit, that’s not what I meant…. Even though that was— “

“—You better not finish that sentence.” She giggles as she wiggles a finger his direction.

He chuckles, throwing his hands up. “Okay, I won’t. But that wasn’t what I meant, I was talking about how we came from this place then too.”

She nods in acknowledgement. “God, I was so drunk that night.”

His chest moves rapidly, as he suppresses a loud laugh. She brings her eyes to meet his, having missed the sight of him truly happy.

“You were.” He affirms. “You become the biggest flirt when your drunk, y’know that right?”

She gasps loudly. “No, I don’t.”

He hums. “You literally flirted with the guy seated closest to the exit on our way out.”

She stares into his eyes, looking to see if he was joking with her, but all she finds is clear amusement. Instead of getting embarrassed about her drunken shenanigans, she decides to turn the tables on him. “You’re for sure the biggest flirt I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

He puts his hand to his heart. “I’m no such thing.”

She laughs. “Remember that one time downtown, when you took me and Bee out for dinner?”

He thinks for a few moments before looking at her with a guilty expression. “Gwen, did you see their outfits?”

She winks. “Trust me, I did.”

“Trust me; I would’ve _much_ rather seen you wear something like that, but not all dreams come true.”

She blushes as he blatantly proves her point, recovering quickly as she scans over the entirety of him standing so close to her.

“But some do.”

A warm rush spreads through her body as he catches onto her meaning and smiles that smile only reserved for her. She’s been around plenty of people who told her to let go, to give up whatever version of love she’d envisioned for herself, but there’s no doubt in her mind there are types of love that span far longer than one lifetime; a feeling her soul can dwell in forever.

His eyes sparkle underneath the street lamp. “Fuck, I missed you.”

She panics when he pushes himself away from the car, not wanting this night to end just yet, but her nerves are put down when he comes to stand in front of her again—his legs now actually bumping into her knees until she parts them slightly so he can stand in between them. His hand reaches for the side of her cheek, his thumb softly caressing the skin underneath his fingertip.

It’s been too long since she’s felt like this; it’s been too long since she felt what she felt when she first met him.

She doesn’t even care about the crisp breeze of the night, as she feels her breathing speed up. “Are you gonna kiss me?”

His smile grows even wider, his thumb pressing into her skin as he focuses on the feel of her skin and acceleration of her breath.

“No.” He murmurs. “But I want to.”

She cocks her head slightly. “Then, why don’t you?”

He steps even closer, her knees now almost at his hip as he leans forward and brushes his lips against her temple. Her chest moves rapidly as he holds her so close, his hand still on her face.

“Three dates.” He whispers.

She pulls back a bit to stare into his eyes, a hint of playfulness pooling in the depths of his blue, while simultaneously being hit with incredibly much honesty. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen this look on him before; his emotions this heightened and desire so charged, yet controlled.

“Three dates?”

“Go on three dates with me. After the third one, I’ll kiss you.”

She knows her desire is pooling off her in waves; Blake catching every inflection, every lip purse, every smouldering desire-filled gaze—all of it culminating in the depths of her abdomen—while she struggles to find words.

“Like when we first started dating.” She breathes.

He smiles. “Exactly.”

She nods her head, her eyes casting down as the emotions threaten to overtake her. Blake is having none of it though, his finger gently lifting her face back up to meet his gaze, that gentle smile still resting on his lips.

“Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”

She swallows loudly, her hand coming to rest over his hand on her face. “I’m thinking about how lucky I am. I’m thinking about how much I love you.”

“So is that a yes?”

She leans forward so her head rests on his chest, his arm coming around her in a reflex. “ _Yes_ , that’s a definite yes.”

They stay like that for a while longer, his body providing her all the warmth she needs as he continous to hold her this close; his heartbeat the only sound she hears before he eventually drives her back home into the positive chaos that’s Adam and Behati.


	17. Chapter 17

It’s been easy to find her footing here; the silence and space of her guest room a nice change from Lizzy’s room—she’s grateful to stay with her friend, but she can’t deny she’s been craving for a bit more space. Getting rid of the apartment she was living in before was a good choice, the memories there only adding to her pain. It’s been an exhausting but also liberating experience trying to find something else, Lizzy being a great help when things get to be a bit much. Staying with Adam and Behati gives her that much needed moment of relief she’s been craving for; not having to worry about anything until she gets home.

She texted Lizzy it was gonna be another few days before she comes back, having Behati letting her convince in staying a bit longer. Even though she only expected to be here for one night, her tendency to over pack worked out in her favour. She can’t say it doesn’t work out well for her and Blake too—his idea for the three dates now suddenly much less complicated with the geographical component taken out.

She’s scared whilst simultaneously excited for his plan. She hasn’t _really_ dated in so long, she’s not even sure she still knows how to do it. When Blake came back into her life they just kind of got back into the swing of things, but they didn’t actually date. Doing it completely different this time is what they both need, but it’s scary nonetheless. Blake has always been the most romantic one; maybe that’s because he knows how much of a sucker for romance she truly is, or perhaps he’s just always been in tune with his feelings more. Whatever it was, he’s been successful scooping her off her feet in the past, making this even more overwhelming.

When they first met, she was determined to get to know him, be with him as much as she could—space was overrated anyways. They hung out for a couple days, he drove a car already and he’d pick her up and drive her around endlessly, listening to songs he grew up on, his dad being a huge slow rock fan. She opened up about running away from home quickly, realizing she couldn’t give him a location to drop her off at. His eyes had widened and it took him less than a minute to tell him about his friends who lived nearby. He’d introduced them once briefly and they didn’t think twice about taking her in. She’d almost kissed him then, but he held off, telling her he didn’t feel this way about anyone before and he was gonna do this right; three dates. If she still wanted him then, he’d touch her the way she wanted him to from the very first moment she’d met him. He’d kept his promise; on their third date, she’d picked out a movie for them to watch at his place, her feet in Blake’s lap as he stacked a pillow for her to lay her head down. They were too lazy to get up when she got cold, so instead he took off his jacket and draped it over her. When the end credits ran and she knew he was about to drive her back to Adam’s and Behati’s, he’d finally pulled her closer and gave her a few seconds to give silent consent before crashing his lips on hers. It took them at least another thirty minutes before they left the house after that.

Twenty-three years later, she’s back to dating the same guy, anticipating what will happen afterwards, craving his touch like he’s never touched her before. Luckily for her, evening arrives rather quickly and Blake’s there to pick her up before she gets too desperate. Dusty is still up, so it takes a bit longer to get away, Blake apparently not good at telling the little girl no. She doesn’t blame him.

“Dusty, let Blake go.” Behati chuckles as she tries to help her friend out, throwing her a knowing smirk.

“How about another sleepover one of these nights?” Blake nudges Dusty in attempt to compromise. “Maybe I can even teach you a few songs.”

Earlier objections seem to be forgotten as the little girl smiles widely. “Really?”

“Really.” Blake nods. “But right now I gotta go, spend some time with my _other_ favorite girl.” He says as he looks over his shoulder at Gwen.

She can do nothing but smile as he walks over to her. She wants to do so many things, but she does none of them, just grabs her coat and makes her way to the door. The sun is setting outside, as she’s momentarily mesmerised by the magical glow it gives the California landscape. With the disappearing sun came a sky that looked like it was on fire; it was the battle cry to the gathering of the night, showing that the only achievement of darkness is to show starlight all the more clearly.

Much like what Blake is to her.

He drives them to a new place she’s never heard of before, Blake convincing her earlier that it lives up to its good name. He leads them into the small diner, heading towards a booth off to the side. He sits as he watches her slide in next to him, the look on his face telling her he expected her to sit across from him—this way being much more intimate. She smiles softly, letting him know that she wants it this way, despite taking it slowly and not being ‘together’, she won’t pretend to be any less drawn to him than she is. Not anymore.

“Can I?” He asks suddenly, looking at her as he points at the strands of hair falling lazily around her shoulder. She nods in confusion, not sure what he’s getting at, but incredibly curious to find out.

He pauses and lifts his hand, brushing the strands carefully behind her ear as his smile grows wider. “As much as I love your hair like this, I just want to see your face more clearly.”

The brief moment of warmth that comes from his fingers touching the place right behind her ears is over way too quickly. She takes a deep breath, chuckling at her sudden realization.

“What?” He grins.

She shakes her head. “It’s just, you truly _are_ making me feel like a teenager on her first date.”

“My plan is working, huh?” He says, nudging her lightly with a small laugh. “I mean it though. I’ve gone so long without seeing your face, I don’t want to do that anymore.”

The waiter interrupts the moment when she comes over and places a can of water and two glasses down in front of them. The timing’s perfect since her mouth runs dry at his words. She pours them both a glass before taking a sip as soon as they’re alone again.

“I don’t want you to either.”

“How’s staying with Adam and Bee for another few days?” He asks, changing the subject.

She smiles as she thinks of her friends. Despite not having seen them for a while, they’re able to make her feel right at home, making her forget about how much she’s missed. “It’s great. It’s nice seeing them so…. happy, you know?”

Blake nods. “They got it so right with each other.”

She looks over at Blake, her breath hitching at the sheer vulnerability he exudes. She wants more of that, even if it means bearing her own soul as well.

“I wonder if their connection ever scares them.” She starts softly, her fingers fumbling with each other. “They live so open and unashamed, there’s no place to hide for them even if they wanted to. It’s the kind of closeness you only feel when you’re having sex with the right person.”

“Intimacy.” He corrects her gently. “Not sex. Intimacy. Where you feel like you can let that person into your life, into your heart and give them every part of yourself.”

Gwen takes a shallow breath and blinks. “You had that though…. after me.”

“No I didn’t.” Blake says lowly, not sounding bitter as expected—instead tired. “Miranda and I…. we were like a third date that never ended. I kept many parts of myself from her, parts she could never understand, would never _want_ to understand.”

“Sex without the intimacy.” She thinks out loud, stunned when she watches him nod in honesty. She swallows loudly before asking what she’s scared of finding out. “Did you feel like that with me too?”

He shakes his head, but his words say otherwise. “I think we tried to pick up where we left off, instead of building something new. Something better. You warned me that would happen.”

“I don’t remember that.” She admits softly.

He smiles as he turns into her. “After we saw each other for the first time—you needed some time and afterwards you met with me at that bar; you said there was probably more we _didn’t_ know about each other. Twenty-three years…. that’s a long time.”

When the waiter comes back to take their order, the conversations halts again, but even as he politely shifts his attention away from her, his hand lays on her knee the entire time. She’s not sure if he’s aware of how much his touch is affecting her, but she feels like it takes twice the time she usually needs to get her order out.

After what feels like an eternity, they’ve both ordered their food and are once again left by themselves.

“You did that on purpose.”

His hand retreats from its place on her knee as he looks at her innocently. “I did _what_ on purpose?”

She bites her lip as she reaches for the glass of water in front of her. “I’m not even gonna give you the satisfaction of answering that.”

His knowing smirk tells her all she needs to know.

“I was just testing if your earlier statement was still in full effect.”

She chuckles while using two fingers to put the rebellious strand of hair that escaped from its place behind her ear, back into place. Blake’s smile when she does so tell her that both their earlier statements still stand.

“It is.” She affirms.

“How about we take it one step further?” He asks, a slick smile on his face.

Deciding she won’t let him have the upper hand this time, she goes for the kill. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Are you sure?” He smirks, his eyes twinkling with challenge. He’s always been the one to push her limits, showing her ways of living that exceeded what she’s been doing before she met him, making her think things she didn’t even let her thoughts wonder off to before. She fell for his mystery and way of living that was much more spontaneous than anything she’s ever known—he still has that, even everything’s he’s been through. She took it for granted.

Not anymore. She nods her head and watches his smirk get even wider.

“I think you should try the bourbon, then.” He smiles at her, half expecting her to back out, but she knows what he’s doing and tonight she’ll humour him; she’ll let him push her.

“You’re trying to get me drunk?”

He shrugs playfully. “I won’t take advantage of you, I take my three dates very seriously.”

“And _after_ these three dates?” She should be embarrassed about the hope and desire laced in her words, but she can’t muster up enough of it to break eye contact.

He winks at her. “I would never take advantage of you.”

He motions for the waitress as she walks past their table, leaning slightly against her body as he gives the woman his order. “Two Bourbon, please. Neat.”

The woman nods friendly before walking off, just in time for Gwen to release her chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” Blake asks.

“It’s just weird being here with you like this, you know? I mean, I want to be here more than anything and I’m having a great time…. It’s just….”

“—Weird.” He finishes for her with a smirk.

She smiles. “Yeah.”

“Wanna make it weirder?” He asks, bumping his shoulder into hers.

“Weird _how_?” She smirks into his direction.

“Ah, perfect.” He says as the waitress comes back with their drinks, before turning his attention back to her. “Let’s play a game.”

She shakes her head. “You’re taking this teenage stuff real far tonight.”

“Are you gonna pretend to hate it?” He challenges.

She blinks a few times before biting her lip. He knows her too well, which is ironic considering what they’re in the process of doing, but she can’t deny being intrigued by everything he’s doing—everything he’s showing her.

She gives in. “Fine. But you start. Never Have I Ever, no truth or dare bullshit.”

He laughs at that. “Believe it or not, I actually have my limits.”

She throws her head back in laughter, her hand reaching out for her glass as she looks up at him, waiting for his first question.

He looks at her mischievously, causing her to squint her eyes. “Never have I ever been caught by a roommate having sex.”

Her eyes widen, as she slaps his arm. “Blake, Jesus…. Don’t….”

Her shaken reaction only fuels his amusement as he laughs, seemingly not about to move on from the question. “Come on, don’t back out now.”

“But you know the answer to this one.”

He leans back, his eyes searching for hers as he smiles. “Are you gonna take a sip or what?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the heat of his blue eyes on her face, or maybe it’s just her pride not wanting to let him get the upper hand with her for too long, but she leans into his space, her face so close to his she could literally say ‘screw his rules’ and taste these lips she’s been staring at all night, but instead she whispers in his ear.

“I literally can’t believe this is the question you start off with.” She says with a laugh as she brings the glass to her lips.

“I just didn’t want to waste any more time.” He says so quickly, it didn’t even seem to have gone on purpose.

She swallows roughly before moving on from the moment. “Never Have I ever had a one night stand?”

His hand reaches for his glass immediately, but he does his best to avoid looking at her. She bites her lip before letting them curve up into a smile, recognizing the way he’s suddenly uncomfortable.

“Really, _that’s_ the question that flusters you?” She smiles.

He swallows another sip of his drink, licking his lips afterwards and she’s never been so jealous of a motion in her entire life. Turning to her, his hand reaches out to her cheek, cupping the side of her face as he tilts her head up towards him. She watches as his eyes drop down to her mouth and she can’t help but close her eyes, her lips parting on their own accord; not caring about him about to break his own rule.

“I’m not flustered.” He whispers softly, before kissing her forehead.

She opens her eyes in surprise, her breath hitching as she feels him softly let go of her face as he sits back into his previous position. She pushes her tongue against the back of her teeth, shaking her head in mock annoyance, taking another deep breath in to regain her composure.

“Remind me again why I like you so much.”

He chuckles. “Let me know when you find the answer to that.”

She tries to focus on anything else but his voice causing tremors inside her body, or the way her nipples hardened underneath her bra at the sheer feeling of his hands on her face and the possibility of his lips on hers. She tries to ignore the ache between her legs or the way she desperately wants this night to continue forever. Luckily Blake interrupts her trail of thought that does nothing but fuel her arousal.

“Are you not gonna drink?” He asks, referring to his earlier question.

She clears her throat before looking at him, shaking her head. “I’ve never had one.”

“Ever?” Surprise laces his words.

“I was with you and after that, Gavin. Even if I hadn’t been, I don’t see myself liking that.” She admits. “When did you?”

“Miranda and I broke up for a while.” He says. “I had a few weird months back then.”

Part of her thinks about just continuing the game, letting his remark slide and keep things moving—but the whole point of tonight is to get to know each other better; Blake’s past still somewhat of mystery to her.

“What was your wedding like?” She asks gently, her eyes laced with understanding and patience as she lets the question hit him.

He squints his eyes, before taking another sip of his drink. “You sure you wanna talk about that?”

She nods, sitting back as she automatically scoots a little closer. “I wanna know what that was like for you—how you wanted that day to be.”

He smiles ruefully. “Those are two different questions.”

“Your wedding didn’t go the way you wanted it to?” She asks almost shocked.

“It was a good day. I didn’t have many demands for our wedding; I wanted our families to be there and for us to mean our vows. The rest was up to her.”

She watches as he internally goes over that day, letting him take all the time he needs as she anticipates the moment he continues.

“That’s my only regret.” He admits.

Her eyebrows raise slightly, not getting the meaning of his words. “What was?”

“How absent I was.” He says simply, looking at her as he says it. “I wasn’t as present as I should’ve been; that day was about us both, yet I pretended to be fine with everything as long as she was happy.”

“What would you have changed?” She whispers, in awe of his honesty.

He takes his time to answer, her gaze on him seemingly making him consider his words longer. She can see the moment he decides to just say whatever he’s thinking.

“I wouldn’t have done it.”

She raises her eyebrows, clearing her throat when the meaning of his words dawn on her. It suddenly becomes clear to her why he almost didn’t say that—she thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have. Her mind is filling itself with _what if_ scenarios at his words and she can’t help but say the words that will undoubtedly slam the final nail in the coffin.

“You wouldn’t have gotten married.” She states, her voice filled with emotion.

He looks at her truthfully. “I wouldn’t have.” He admits again. “Not to her.”

She wonders if he can hear her heartbeat right now, the thumping inside of her chest painfully present. The way he looks at her makes it equally as hard to keep her breathing under control—his eyes piercing its way into her soul.

“What about you?” He asks. “How was your wedding day?”

Thankful for the distraction to let her minds wander elsewhere—even if it’s a place of heartbreak and bitterness—she thinks back to what was supposed to be her happiest day.

“I think it was a pretty good prelude to what would happen to us eventually.” She says, silence falling between them as she finds it within her to continue. “My mom had picked me up that day, it was the first time seeing her again after a long while.”

“Your dad….” Blake starts carefully.

She shakes her head. “I haven’t seen him since I moved out here. He wasn’t there.”

She watches Blake’s face fall for a second, the thought of not seeing a family member for over twenty years obviously foreign to him.

“I always thought that I would’ve found a way to make up with him by now, but it just never happened like that. I feel safer without him in my life.” She admits.

Blake only nods, letting her continue without interrupting. “My mom took me to the church where the ceremony was held. I got dressed as we waited together for the moment to actually arrive. It was nice for a while, until we realized we’d been waiting _too_ long. I started to think he stood me up, turned out he was just late.”

Blake scoffs. “He was late for your wedding day?”

She nods, subconsciously sliding closer to him as she’s now completely pressed against his side. She doesn’t even realize she needs the closeness to continue her story, but the feeling of his body so close to hers and his arm stretched out behind her calms down the storms that are currently raging inside.

“He was late for a lot of things, yeah. I was just so relieved he showed up, I kind of forgot about the embarrassment of having to make all these people wait. I just wanted to say our vows, get married and forget about everything else.”

“But did you really forget?”

She reaches for her drink, settling back against him. “I don’t think you ever truly can.”

“Some things are good to remember. Even the bad stuff.”

She looks up at him, smiling. “I never knew you were such a wise guy.”

“Just think about everything else you’re yet to find out about me.” He smirks.

She hasn’t been this calm in years, talking about Gavin usually enough to send her down the path of anxiety, causing her to shut down—instead, this time she’s enjoying being able to get it off her chest with someone who doesn’t belittle or judge.

“I’m excited to find out everything else.”

He looks at her so lovingly, and her gaze once again falls to his lips. She’s gone such a long time without ever feeling his kiss during these years without contact, she doesn’t understand why it’s suddenly her biggest torture not to feel them on hers.

“You say that now.” He replies, his eyes flickering with humour, but the tone of his voice shows her there’s insecurity there too.

Realizing this is her time to give back what he’s been giving her all night—the confidence to be herself, the peacefulness to show herself to him the way she sees herself.

“You told me to tell you when I found out why I liked you so much.” She starts, smiling gently. “I wanna tell you now.”

Blake’s arm leaves the leather behind her and finally wraps around her enough to make room for his hand to tangle into the strands of her hair. He plays with it so gently she almost wishes they weren’t in public so she could lay her head on his lap and feel his fingers softly tangle with her blond locks, while she drifts into the peacefulness of what they create together.

“Whatever you want.” He whispers.

She almost fears she’d said her thoughts out loud, but she realizes that he’s referring to her wanting to be open and honest with him about her feelings, sensing she needs to get this off her chest more than anything.

“Actually….” She whispers as she shakes her head. “I’m not that good with words, not like you at least, so I’m not gonna give you a speech about everything I like about you.” She bites her lip as Blake looks at her surprised, not quite knowing what to expect.

“I love you.” She blurts out. “I always have, which is surprising since I don’t know that much about love. I always thought love is what I’ve been chasing, but now I just think I’ve been running from it all along.”

“Gwen.”

“I only want to run _to_ you.” She nods, as if she’s just figuring it out now. “I’ve spent my whole life being scared of things, Blake. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel something stronger than fear.”

The look he gives her next shows her he’s struggling just as much to not lean down and kiss the air straight out of her lungs.

She bites her own lip since he won’t.

“For someone who claims to not be too good with words, that was pretty damn good.”

She laughs. “Was it too much for a first date type of thing?”

Blake winks as he takes a sip of his drink, his eyes still intensely on her. “I think maybe a little, but we’ve never been the conventional type.”

Everything was said with that. She didn’t need to verbally react to his statement, the proof of his words hanging all over them. They’ve always been all or nothing—they’ve loved each other with a love more powerful than most people get to experience, yet never had the opportunity to make each other as happy as they set out to do. They’ve missed every chance, up until now.

Dinner was nice, Blake turned out to be right about the place. They continued their banter and occasional deep conversations—letting the night take them wherever, instead of trying to control it. It was different, it was what they both needed.

Outside, it had officially grown dark, the shadows of the trees blending into the blackness and their silhouettes against the sky growing way less pronounced. Blake had grabbed her hand after he held the restaurant door open for her to exit, which caught her slightly by surprised. The good kind though; the innocent touch of her hand in his enough to clench some of the thirst she’s been feeling tonight. As she walks towards his car, he stops, causing her to almost slip out of the grip of his hand. She stops in time to prevent that, looking up at him questionably.

“What’s wrong?”

Blake smiles. “Let’s not go back to the car yet.”

She takes a few steps back so she’s in front of him again, her hand never letting go of his. “Where do you want to go?”

“When’s the last time you went on a little spontaneous night walk?”

“Here?” She laughs. “Do people even walk in LA?”

“You say that like you didn’t grow up here.”

It shuts her up momentarily, the tug on her hand indicating that he wants to get them out of here. She lets him lead them away from the car, onto the gravelly path that stretches alongside the downtime city—the only lights are the ones coming from inside the many restaurants and diners scattered along their route.

She finds herself walking so closely next to him, they bump into each other more than once. Neither one seemingly care though.

“Did Dusty drive you guys crazy with her gift yet?”

Gwen’s eyes snap up at his, surprised to hear him bring the topic up himself. “Uhm, yeah…. well, not really. I think it’s cute.”

Blake chuckles. “What about Bee and Adam?”

“They mostly _pretend_ to hate it. I see how they look at her when she’s singing.”

He nods, before swallowing. “I’m relieved she likes it so much.”

“Has she stayed over at your place a lot?” Gwen asks softly, adding to her question when she gets a confused look from him. “Since you promised her she could come sleep over soon—it sounded like she’s done that before.”

There’s something in his eyes that turns a bit darker, something she hasn’t yet seen when discussing his best friend’s daughter.

“Yeah.” He answers softly. “She’s been there a bunch of times, just not.... _not after_ ….”

She suddenly gets the look of heartbreak on his face as she tightens her grip on his hand. “I get it.”

He lets out a deep sigh, before opening his heart up to her in a way she hasn’t heard him do many times before.

“I didn’t want to be reminded of losing what I suddenly started wanting so much. I always liked kids and being around Dusty has been an eye-opener all around, but nothing really prepares you for that feeling you get when you’re on the verge of becoming a parent yourself.”

“Yeah.” She breathes. “I can’t imagine.”

“Plus, Dusty is way too smart and attentive to be around me when I feel that down. I can’t do that to her; I won’t ever be the one to introduce her to darkness like that.”

His words only solidify what she’s always known about him: he’d be an awesome father. A selfless one—someone who’d teach safety instead of violence, love instead of possession.

She can’t find the right words to respond, as she looks down to the ground and back up at him. “You feel like you’re ready now?”

He nods. “When she just got born, I made her and her parents a promise to always be there. Miranda wasn’t too happy with that at the time, not feeling the whole kids’ thing...”

She hears a bitterness she can’t help but hone in on. “She didn’t want children back then?”

“I think she just didn’t like the thought of me showing anyone attention other than her, to be honest. But no, she wasn’t into the idea at all. I actually didn’t babysit for quite a while because of her.”

“That’s not right, Blake.” She says softly, shaking her head. “I see how good you are with her and I’ve only seen you with her twice.”

Blake smiles. “It’s impossible not to love her. There was a time a few years back where Bee especially felt like they’d lost the spark a little and needed some more time together. They’re great parents, but they just needed to find their way back to place that worked. I’d take Dusty for the night so they could get away sometimes, have some quality time. These were some of my best nights.”

Hearing Blake get lost in love and adoration for Dusty would be the thing to eventually kill her, she’s sure.

“You deserve it.”

He suddenly stops them again, his hand pulling her in enough so she’s leaning against his chest, her arm coming around her lower back to keep her there.

“Blake, what...”

“I love you, you know that?” He cuts her off expertly.

“I _do_ know that.” She smiles.

“And I know that I’ve hurt you, said some things I shouldn’t have said.”

The wind feels incredibly sharp against her skin as Blake’s words strip away all her layers, her body relaxing into his arms as it’s all she can do calm herself.

“We both said things we probably shouldn’t have. It’s not important anymore.”

He cocks his head, his hand cupping her cheek.

“You’re great with her too. With Dusty.”

Her eyes cast down, but he brings her head back up, not allowing her to run away from what she’s feeling this time. Her chest rises and falls slowly, yet she’s sure Blake can feel the beating of her heart against his clothed chest.

“You were right about what you said before…” She whispers softly, the conversation almost too intimate to have in the middle of a deserted street, yet she doesn’t stop talking. “I was holding on to something unrealistic, and I never should’ve reacted the way I did, especially considering the timing of our conversation.”

He shakes his head as his eyes get glossy, her heart constricting painfully at the sight of him tearing up.

“I wasn’t right.”

There’s something about the way he speaks these words that causes her breath to hitch. She thinks back to the first time they met, how he spoke to her in a way that made her believe in truth and forget about everything that hurt. It reminds her of the time they locked themselves out after she’d moved in with him and he’d spent hours trying to keep her warm in the back of his car, until Adam showed up with the spare key.

“Blake, you don’t have to say that.” She says, despite knowing he’s telling the truth.

“I can’t give you certainty on these things anymore and I hate that. I hate knowing that I can’t give you what you’ve been wanting all along maybe even more than I hate not getting it myself.” Her eyes widen at his words, relieved when she realizes he’s not done yet, not trusting in her own ability to form words at the moment.

“I shouldn’t have said it was impossible, or made you feel like it was wrong to hope. Don’t ever let anyone steal that from you, Gwen—not me, not anyone.”

She shakes her head. “You’re confusing me. What are you saying?”

He smiles at her so gently then, she actually needs to take a step back. She needs to step back considering his plan with the three dates. She needs to step back because this is the type of intimacy she’s still learning about. She needs to step back cause she’s two seconds away from breaking down on the street.

“I’m saying that I want it all with you. I always have wanted it all with you.” He says, his words dripping honesty. “I’m also saying that I can’t make you any promises and I damn sure can’t handle the thought of disappointing you again.”

It’s all he needs to say for her to recognize every mistake she’s made. She’d mistaken hope for expectations; she’d made him feel like he was set up to disappoint her—and he’s done doing so.

She takes as many steps forward as she recently took backwards, happy with the way his arm finds its way back around her immediately.

“I’m sorry.” She murmurs quietly into the night air. “I was selfish.”

“You were hopeful.”

“I demanded something from you that you weren’t able to provide. I tried to take from you when you’d run low on things to give.”

His head lowers until his lips touch her forehead, his hand rubbing on her back to keep her warm.

“You’re good, baby girl. You’ve always been good to me. I just need you to be okay with whatever happens—give me a chance to make you happy with or without _that_.

She wants to push him down onto the nearest bench and straddle him, an audience be damned. She wants to kiss him until the only name he remembers is hers and the only thing he feels is her everlasting want for him. She wishes she had the words like he did, so she could erase the notion of him not being enough for her out of his head. She wishes she could take back every reckless thing she’s ever said to him so that notion never would’ve built itself.

She prays to God she’ll be granted enough time to show him.

“Just keep loving me. That’s enough.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since you've guys asked for a chapter from Blake's perspective, I decided to give y'all 2! Here's the first one. Please leave comments, they inspire me to write like nothing else!

He tries not to think about this time tomorrow. He tries not to think about the thousands of miles in between them again. She’s here now, that’s all that matters.

“Hey, you in there?” She asks sweetly, her hand landing on his knee.

He smiles. “I’m here.” His hand finds hers on his knee and squeezes, and if he didn’t know any better he’d say that small gesture is the reason for her sudden blush.

He’s been on numerous of dates with her in his lifetime, but never whilst not being with her. His mind has been running crazy thinking about new ways to find their way back to each other. He’s always wanted her in the purest, realest form there is to want a person, but he found out quickly that intentions don’t always mean anything if not executed well.

“You sure your mind is here? You seem distracted.”

He hates how nervous she sounds, as if she’s scared he’s having doubts and there’s nothing more wrong than that.

“You know what?” He blurts out loud, standing up as he holds his hand out for her. “Let’s get out of here.”

She takes his hand but looks hesitant regardless. “Where are we going?”

He raises his eyebrow and waits a few seconds to answer. “I don’t know, we’ll figure something out.”

As he leads her out of their friend’s apartment, he feels the slight tug of her arm trying to keep them here as she starts rambling. “I kinda promised I’d have dinner with them tonight, since I’m leaving tomorrow morning. I can’t be late to that, I mean want to spend it with you, but they’ve been so generous and…”

“Gwen.” He interrupts as he halts his steps, causing her to bump into him. “Relax. Adam told me about your dinner plans. I’ll get you back in time.”

Her thumb smooths over the skin of his hand, as she bites her lip. “So wherever we’re going…. Is that going to be our second date?”

He wants to say no, make sure that their next date is a carefully planned and well-thought out moment she’ll never forget, but the spontaneous aspect of today makes it more appealing—her smile eventually convincing him to give in.

“Sure.” He affirms. “Do you want it to be?”

She nods quickly. “Yes.”

He cocks his head amusingly, walking closer to her while never letting go of her hand. She takes a careful step back, but a slight tug at her hand has her crashing into his chest. He revels in the way her breath hitches and he can’t help the smug smile on his face as he realizes how much his proximity is affecting her.

“You didn’t have to think about that long.” He whispers against her forehead, as she tries to avoid his gaze.

She shrugs it off. “I like spending time with you.”

“That’s it?” He presses, his smirk taking over most of his face.

She blushes and he’s using every ounce of self-control he possesses to not tilt her head up and crash his lips onto hers, pushing her up against the nearest wall.

“That’s it.” She whispers.

“You know what I think?”

She shakes her head before burying it in his chest. “We should probably get going.”

He chuckles, but ignores her. “I think you really want this to be the second date so we can get to the third quicker. Am I right?”

He knows the tremble of her voice like this back of his hand, yet it was her eyes locking with his that really told him all he needed to know. “I guess, yeah. Yes.”

She breaks eye contact again after that, the crown of her head swiping past his chin. Taking it slow was something they both agreed on, despite their bodies portraying a blatant contradiction. He’s been without her for so long, every chance he gets to hold her in his arms, is a chance he can’t pass up on—at least not without an aching regret settling into his bones afterwards.

Something about the tone of her voice indicates a shift in mood. “Our third date will have to wait though.”

He swallows, his hand rubbing slow circles on her back. “I know.”

“I wish I could stay. Just a little while longer.”

He pauses momentarily against her, before pressing his thumb deeper into her back—against the place where he can feel tension settling into her spine. Her little exhale of breath against his chest feels like sunshine on the coldest day, his heart beating a little faster at the sensation.

“You’ll be back.” He says softly.

“ _Yeah._ ” She whispers. “I tried to get Lizzy to reschedule, but with the business expanding it would just be bad entrepreneurship on my part, you know?”

“What exactly is this thing you’re being called back for anyways?” He asks, as he realizes she hasn’t told him much about it yet.

“It’s an exhibit of our most recent collection basically.” She says excitedly, her face lighting up when she talks about her work. “We’re being considered for New York fashion week, how fucking surreal is that?”

He chuckles, but his eyes hold all the love and adoration he feels for her. She’s always been passionate about the things that moved her—his biggest hurdle back in the days was watching her bury that away.

“I don’t know much about that stuff, but New York fashion week…. I know that’s one hell of a big deal.”

She smiles. “It is.”

He looks down at her, her eyes shining brightly with passion. She’d never know how much emotion she holds in these brown irises or understand exactly how beautiful she is. She’ll never see herself the way he sees her.

He clears his throat. “We should really get going now, before Adam and Bee come back, otherwise they’ll never let you go.”

She takes a step back and nods. His heart flutters when he realizes she’s waiting for him to grab her hand. He does and he will—for however long she’ll let him.

*

He’d missed her warmth more than anything. Every time they’d reconnect, he realized exactly how much he took for granted the simple gesture of holding her against him and feel her body heat become one with his being. This time is different though— this time feels more intimate, more permanent.

He was only in his mid-twenties when he found out about his disease at the time. As much as he loved Gwen, there was too much he didn’t know, too much that he couldn’t make sense of. The feelings she awoke within him were new and frightening in ways. He knew he loved to hold her then, but he didn’t know he was made to do so until he was older. 

Now it’s 23 years later and he’s on his second date with her.

He fights the urge to reach out for her and pull her closer into him, but he refrains himself. The sunlight casting down onto her face just right, gives her a particular glow that takes his breath away but also breathes new life into him. 

He can do nothing but smile as he takes in the sight next to him. 

“What?” She smiles as she catches him staring.

“You’re crazy beautiful, Gwen.”

The words come out so casually, he almost feels embarrassed, but the adorable flush that paints her cheeks has him forgetting all about it.

She giggles. “Stop it.”

One thing that hasn’t changed is her inability to take a compliment. He used to think he did the right thing by dropping it when she asked, but he won’t do that anymore. The one thing that haunted him the most when she was gone, was not telling her he loved her enough. 

“I won’t.” He replies simply. “I’m never gonna stop telling you how amazing you are.”

She shakes her head, still feeling bashful underneath his outpouring of admiration.

“I feel weird when you do that.”

He pushes his elbow into the grass beneath him, leaning his head on his hand as he looks at her. He realizes he’s lucky the weather decided to work with him as he took them to their usual make-out spot, only a few miles away from her former high school. 

“Why?” He asks softly.

She bites her lip and shrugs, pulling at a strand of green beneath her. “I don’t know, I’m not really used to it, I guess.”

He keeps his gaze locked on her. “A person like you— it should’ve been all you’ve ever known.”

He watches her swallow roughly. “Blake, I…. Let’s not talk about him.”

“We’re not talking about him. We’re talking about you.”

She closes her eyes, and even when she’s clearly tormented she’s still one hell of a sight to behold. He remembers all the times they’ve spend here before, the numerous of times he took her here just to clear her mind, sucking on one of these overly sweet melon popsicles, Gwen detested so much.

“You’ve always talked to me a certain way…” She starts softly. “It makes me feel like I don’t deserve it sometimes.”

Loving her is the easiest thing he’s ever done; nothing could’ve prepared him for the intensity of his feelings for her—telling her how he sees her is as natural to him as any other basic human trait.

“What about you though?” She asks suddenly, changing the narrative of the conversation to him. “It’s not like you have been great with compliments either.”

She looks at him challenging and he smiles at the childlike expression on her face.

“That’s not true. I took your compliments just fine.”

She scrunches her nose and bites her lip before smiling nervously at him. “You’d never really take them in. Especially when other people gave them to you.”

He lets out a staggering breath before looking down, focusing on the way his finger traces hers underneath his palm. She’s not wrong about her observation, he doesn’t allow positivity of others to penetrate his being, used to pouring so much warmth into people who didn’t reciprocate. Letting people build you up only adds new scars to your collection when they suddenly take that warmth back after they leave you alone.

“The only people who truly know you well enough to give you heartfelt compliments are the ones who’ve seen you in the dark. Everyone is prettier in the daylight.”

She sits even closer to him and for a moment he thinks she’s about to make a move, but she seems to either remember their pact or he was wrong and she never intended to do anything but scoot closer to him. “That can’t be right, Blake. That’s no way to live—you can spark a positive reaction in someone who’s known you for a few minutes. That compliment is just as valid as any other you might get from me.”

“Maybe.” He concedes with a smile. “How about I just work on accepting them better when they’re coming from you and you do the same?”

She pretends to ponder over his offer. “I can work with that, I guess. Still, do you really feel like everyone’s prettier during the day?”

“I got divorced the first thing in the morning after finding out about Miranda's infidelity at nighttime. It’s the darkness that brings the temptation though, it’s like daylight helps blinding you while the darkness just exposes everything you fought so hard against in the morning.”

She squints her eyes. “But you think divorcing was the right thing to do though.”

“The best.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “It was falling off the wagon and giving into the loneliness that was wrong.”

“We’re only human.”

His eyes soften at her words. It’s so like Gwen to smooth over his flaws, give him reasons to forgive himself when he tries hard to taint his own image. She always saw the best in him, even when his flaws caused her hurt. He doesn’t even want to think about how many men in her life have forced her to keep seeing the good, just to keep her from going crazy.

“That doesn’t excuse every mistake we make.”

She shakes her head in agreement, before sitting up on her knees and reaching her hand down to cup his cheek, looking down at him.

“It doesn’t.” She says sweetly, her thumb tracing patterns along his jawline. “You don’t think this thing with me is giving into your loneliness, right?”

She asks the question so softly—so vulnerable—he can’t keep laying down. He pushes himself up completely, their faces now so close he can feel her breath on his chin.

His hand traces the one she’s leaning on in the grass, his palm covering it completely in the next moment. “This thing we have, it's so different from anything I could ever possibly have with someone else, you can't even compare it. I give in to you because you're right for me, not cause I'm lonely."

He waits a few moments for her to process his words, before throwing the question back at her.  “How do _you_ feel?”

“I feel like you make me a better person. If I allow myself to give into you, that is.”

“And?” He asks like it’s obvious follow up question. “Do you allow yourself that?”

She blushes again, the prettiest shade of pink. “I’m here with you. I’m opening up to you. I can’t stop thinking about us in ways I haven’t thought of since, well you know?” She blushes some more and he just nods. “I’m allowing myself to give into you, yeah.”

He can’t stop staring at her. He never can, but when she’s this honest and real with him, he just wants to keep them frozen in the moment forever and get all the time he needs to imprint every slight curve and movement of her body in his brain. She has that thing that makes her the biggest paradox. She’s incredibly seductive while never losing that classic beauty and bashfulness that screams innocence. She could say the most vile or inappropriate things and it would all sound like a blessing to him.

“Good.” He smirks. The soft drizzle of rain falling onto them is what makes him curse under his breath as Gwen smiles sweetly up at him.

“It’s probably time to head back anyways.”

He grunts. “I know. Just don’t repeat it—I don’t want to be remembered of you leaving tomorrow.”

She smiles sympathetically and he knows it’s all she can do. She has her life back in New York and he’s happy to see how she’s made a name for herself out there. But he can’t stop thinking about what would’ve happened if he did what he set out to do all those years ago.

* 

_He tries desperately to keep it together for his own sake, and that of his friend. It still didn’t do much to lessen the tears staining his cheeks or the feeling of someone shoving a knife into his chest. It’s been two weeks now. Two weeks since he disappeared without so much as a word, two weeks since he walked away from the only woman he’d ever be comfortable spending his future with. The only consolation here is that his future might not be too long._

_He’s stayed at his parents the first week, feeling pretty confident about Gwen showing up at Adam’s to look for him—and she didn’t disappoint. His friend had told him how worn out she’d looked on his doorstep, the bubbly Gwen they all knew looked like she was drowning and desperately searching for a hand to pull her up; a hand he had denied her. A hand he wouldn’t allow Adam to give her._

_He feels hopeless._

_She loved him. She reminded him of that on a daily basis and he surprised even himself when he realized he was thinking far ahead into his future with her, wanting everything he once swore off to now be his. He wanted all her secrets, all her time. Now time was the very thing that was about to be taken away from him._

_Being back at Adam’s apartment helps with the gruesome days, that most times don’t even feel worth it anymore. He’s left sitting out whatever time he has left, fighting what’s quite possibly inevitable, with now the added heartache to accompany him. His nights are still horrible, no matter where he is, not even Adam and Behati can make those any better. Tonight isn’t any different; the hard floor beneath him only intensifies the pain in his joints, his hands balled up in fists as he tries his hardest to internalize the pain and heart wrenching sobs that are begging to be let out. He’s not quite sure what time it is, but he knows it’s late enough for it to be highly inconvenient._

_His eyes glance over to the kitchen table where he keeps the item in plain sight—just to torture himself some more._

_It’s not long before another wave of emotion hits him and he tries to focus on the way his nails dig into the skin of his palm, anything to keep from crying out. Somewhere along his plan to internalize it all, he must’ve gone wrong, because he can hear the footsteps over his own heavy breathing._

_He doesn’t have to look up to realize it’s Adam sliding down onto the floor next to him._

_“Blake…” He starts softly, just to get his attention. “Come on, it’s 3 AM, you need to get some sleep.”_

_“I can’t.” Blake rasps, his throat feeling like it’s being cut open from the inside out._

_Adam sighs, his hand landing on his shoulder as he squeezes. “Just call her.”_

_His hopelessness suddenly turns into rage at his friend’s words, almost enough to push himself up and away from him, but he lacks the physical strength at the moment._

_“If you’re here to give me horrible advice, please, please go back to bed. To your girlfriend.”_

_He knows he’s being an asshole, and a jealous one at that, but he can’t get himself to take it back or look at Adam as he says it._

_“Look at yourself.” Adam says. “Tell me that this is what’s making you happy. Try to convince me that this is what’s best for you—better yet, try to convince yourself.”_

_He shakes his head, still unable to face him. “It’s not what’s best for me.”_

_“I know that, that’s why— “_

_“—It’s what’s best for her.” He interrupts quickly, a fresh set of tears pooling in his eyes again. “It will kill her Adam. It will kill her to have to watch me deteriorate like that and we both know that she will, she will be there until the very end if I allow it.”_

_He can hear Adam breathe heavily, the thought of losing him one he can’t seem to bear either._

_“You’re not giving her enough credit, Blake. She’s been through her fair share of shit; she can handle more than you think.”_

_There’s a big part of him that just wants to crawl towards his phone and dial her number, beg for forgiveness and tell her the truth, hoping she’d come back and be there to comfort him until he’s no longer here. There’s an even bigger part that loves her too much for that, keeping him firmly rooted in place._

_“I can’t do that to her.” He whispers._

_“You don’t think you’re hurting her now?”_

_“She’ll get over it.”_

_“What if she doesn’t?”_

_He finally looks up to find Adam’s gaze on him, his hand rubbing over his nose and mouth, his palm feeling sticky with sweat._

_“Blake, are you....” Before he can say anything, Adam is grabbing onto his hand and flipping it to inspect his palm. It’s not until Adam presents his flat palm to them both that he realizes his nails digging into the skin there had made a cut, enough for his hand to now be a messy pool of sweat and blood._

_“You’re bleeding.” Adam states._

_Blake scoffs. “It’s nothing.”_

_He pulls his hand out of Adam’s grip and balls it up in a fist again, this time less forceful but he feels the sting of it anyways. At this point, any kind of pain is better than the one he feels in his heart._

_“You can’t do this.” Adam says suddenly, his tone going from sympathetic to offended._

_Blake frowns in confusion. “Can’t do what?”_

_“This.” Adam hisses. “If you’re not gonna call her, if you’re not gonna do anything to fix what you just broke, at least fight for yourself. Don’t give up and submit to this disease, Blake. Don’t force us to watch you go down like that.”_

_Adam’s fiery spoken words are enough to cause a frenzy within him. “So that’s what this is about? You need me to keep it together so you and Behati can sleep at night?”_

_“You know that’s not what I mean…”_

_“Are you sure?” Blake presses some more. “Cause that’s what it sounds like! Last I checked, I’m the one who’s running out of time here, not you—not Bee. You guys will have plenty of peaceful nights after I’m gone.”_

_Blake doesn’t think he’s ever seen the level of hurt on Adam’s face as in this moment, his heart constricting painfully at the realization that he caused that._

_“I know you’re out of your mind with pain and fear right now, but you need to be really careful about what you say to me next.” His friend warns._

_“Adam…”_

_“No.” He cuts him off. “Behati is a mess, she’s been crying non-stop since we’ve told her, not to mention the burden of her not being able to talk to her best friend about it. And me, I’m not even gonna dignify what you just said with a response—you know how I feel.”_

_The regret of his words weighs heavy on his shoulders, the feeling of being a few seconds away from being swallowed by the world is painfully present. He wants nothing more than to take back his words, but he knows it won’t do any good. He also knows it’s almost easier to have the people closest to him angry with him or gone, since the thought of not getting to spend a lifetime with them as he envisioned one he can hardly bear._

_“I don’t know what to do here.” Blake blurts out, beyond caring about how desperate he sounds._

_“Don’t push us away.” Adam replies forcefully, the tremor in his voice indicating he’s close to losing it as well. “Fight.”_

_“What if it doesn’t matter?”_

_Adam shakes his head, his voice breaking as he speaks. “There’s still hope—the doctor didn’t say it was impossible.”_

_“Hope for the best, but expect the worst is not really encouraging, Adam.”_

_“Still, you’re going into treatment, people beat cancer all the time.”_

_“And people die from it all the time too.”_

_He looks up at him as Adam finds his way back on his feet, his back leaning against the wall as he shakes his head. “So you’re just gonna convince yourself you’re dying?”_

_“It’s easier that way.” Blake speaks softly._

_He thinks about how he won’t let himself think about a happy ending here, he thinks about how he pushed Gwen away to make it supposedly easier on them both._

_Adam seems to think about the same thing._

_“Is it?”_

_Adam’s question lingers for a while, the words ringing in his head like a continuous loop that’s destined to drive him crazy. He keeps hearing the words even after Adam walks off, a final squeeze on his shoulder being the last piece of contact his friend can handle tonight and he doesn’t blame him._

_His mind wonders off to Gwen, and how he hopes she’ll be able to forgive him one day. He wanted her forever. He wanted a lifetime long enough for that to mean something. He wanted to show her exactly how much she means to him._

_His eyes snap up to the kitchen table again, swallowing loudly at the sight. He’s had it in his possession for the last two months now. The small, elegant box holds the diamond encrusted band that was supposed to solidify their forever._


	19. Chapter 19

He had given up heavy drinking ever since his divorce. It was not conducive to his personal life and Gwen and him working on things had left him with an obtained peace that was foreign to him. And so, he'd given up what had only been an occasional habit anyway. But tonight, he felt in need of something strong again and so he ended up with a bottle of scotch he procured from the very back of one of his kitchen cabinets. He sat in the kitchen with the glass gripped so hard in his hand that it was close to breaking.

Gwen has been back in New York for two days. She’s keeping him updated, which includes many pictures and exciting texts about the progress at work, with a bunch of emoji’s he doesn’t understand. He loves it though, because it’s her. She manages to make his day better with a simple ‘thinking about you’ or ‘good morning’ text. It’s the simplicity and ease in which she can uplift his soul that makes it almost _too_ easy to give his heart away to her.

Back here in LA, he’s been trying to focus on work; writing has been coming easy to him again due to the fresh dose of inspiration. Things seemed to be going well despite missing Gwen like he hasn’t seen her in years instead of days. What he didn’t expect—or prepare for—was earlier today when two knocks on his door put him face to face with his ex-wife.

He had tried to politely shut her down, but the near heartbroken expression in her eyes made it impossible for him to do so.

“What are you doing here? Is everything alright?” He asked while reluctantly letting her in, watching as she went to sit down on his couch—the ease in which she did so made him grit his teeth.

She just breathed out, not looking at him. “I can’t do this.”

If he was confused before, the scale had now broken. “What are you talking about?”

“I miss her, Blake. I can’t talk about it with anyone else, they don’t understand. I need to talk to you, _please_ , talk to me.”

She had said the words so quickly, it dizzied Blake. This is not what he expected, nor what he thinks he’s capable of doing. Talking to Gwen about this was one thing, but to talk about their loss with the woman he shared it with, the woman who’d pretty much shut him out of the whole process and left him dealing with his grief alone, was not something he thought he could do.

“You want to talk about this _now_?” He asks angrily.

“I wasn’t ready then.” She shot back.

He shook his head, unable to process the words coming out of her mouth. “I called you a hundred times after it had happened. I even offered to stay with you for a few days, make sure you were alright—all you did was tell me someone else was already doing that.”

“I couldn’t really have you move back in with me, even if it was only for a few days. That wouldn’t have gone over well with my boyfriend—excuse me.” She added the last part in annoyance. “Besides, I don’t think Gwen would’ve liked that much either.”

“She pitched me the idea, actually.”

He’ll never forget how Gwen dropped everything and rushed by his side after hearing the news of him losing the baby. He half expected her to stay in New York, being hurt enough by the revelation of Miranda’s pregnancy, but he should’ve known better. He should’ve known she wouldn’t let him go through that kind of pain alone—it’s that knowledge that led him to walk away twenty-something years ago.

Gwen had nursed him back into a somewhat better state—a sober one—and stayed with him after that. She’d witnessed him calling Miranda numerous times, trying to talk to her, his worrying nature wouldn’t allow him to stop until he made sure she wasn’t doing anything stupid. She was also there to watch him get shut down time and time again. When she toldhim he should ask her if she needed him to be there for a couple of days, he’d almost combusted with his love for her—but at the time, he wasn’t too comfortable showing her that.

“Lovely. So it didn’t even come from you.” Miranda interrupted his thoughts.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Blake hissed. “ _I_ tried to talk you. _I_ was the one who made an effort. I got zero from you. As always.”

She lowered her head, a warry look in her eyes. “I didn’t come here to argue with you.”

“You shouldn’t be here.” He countered.

She looked up at him coldly, and when she spoke, there was ice in her voice. “We both lost her. You can’t possibly be mad at me for the way I tried to survive back then.”

“Your way of surviving was pushing me away? You barely told me what the fuck happened that night!”

He can’t remember the last time he felt this angry, or the last time he’d raised his voice like this. He’s in the process of healing the wound this loss had left him with and Miranda’s presence was like a knife tearing into the beginning of the new scar tissue.

“I told you what you needed to know. A driver crashed into my car, I lost her.”

He felt sick at the casualty of which she’d spoken the words, but he couldn’t find enough strength in his body to come back with a response.

After a few silent moments, she spoke again. “I can’t change what happened, Blake.”

He pinched his nose, swallowing away the sour taste in his mouth. “I didn’t say I expected you to.”

“You blame me.” She said matter of factly. “I get it, I was reckless. I didn’t think I was ready to be a mom, but I told you from the start that I was gonna give it my all. I would’ve tried everything in my power to be the best I could for her.”

The speed of which she spoke once again had him struggling to keep up, but he didn’t miss what she tried to hide.

 _You_ _blame_ _me_. _I_ _was_ _reckless_.

He lost track of the times he felt nausea threaten to take him over, but he pushed it away every single time, in order to stay in control and get the answers he needed.

“What did you mean ‘you were reckless’?” He asked straight to the point.

She shrugged and he would argue it made everything worse.

“I shouldn’t have driven that night.”

Every word she spoke stung, only fuelling the fire he felt burning inside of him from the minute she’d set foot in his apartment. Every phrase was like gasoline, his fist started to clench as his jaw rooted. “Were you drinking?”

The words came out rather calm and collected, but his insides were boiling at the possibility of her answer.

She shook her head frantically. “ _What_? No, I wouldn’t—you think I would…” She let her voice trail off, the answer to her question already painfully obvious.

“Then _what_?” He hissed again, this time unable to keep the anger at bay.

“I was fighting with my boyfriend, Blake. We’d gotten into an argument and I was pregnant and hormonal and I overreacted. I couldn’t think or _see_ clearly, but I just knew I had to get away. I got in my car and just intended to drive as far as I could. I was beside myself.”

He knew he shouldn’t have, but the moment she’d spoke her truth, he stopped fighting his feelings all together.

“Do you even think?” He asked rhetorically. “Or do you just do whatever the hell you want with no regard for the consequences?”

She stood up suddenly, her demeanour equally as tough and infuriated. “This was not my fault.” She hissed as she pointed a finger towards his chest.

“You were hysterical and pregnant.” He threw back in her face. “And you still got in your car. You call that reckless? That’s just plain stupid.”

“You know what, you’re right, this was a mistake.”

She’d turned around to head towards his door, when he felt some of the anger subsiding.

“Miranda.” He called out for her, a sigh of relief washed over him when he saw her stop dead in her tracks. The fact that she didn’t turn around actually made it easier for him to talk in that moment. “I don’t blame you for losing her.”

He was angry about the risk she took. He also knew nothing could compare to the horror of a mother losing her child.

She turned around to face him, a grateful look pooling in her eyes. “Thank you.” She whispered.

He just nodded; he couldn’t give her much more than that, but he couldn’t let her leave without at least the peace of mind he would’ve wanted too if he were her. A peace of mind that despite everything, she deserved.

“Take care.”

She’d given him a weak response back, with a similar message, before pulling the door shut behind her. That’s how he finds himself sitting at the kitchen counter close to midnight, with a glass of hard liquor clutched into his hand.The words spoken earlier today had drained him from most of the sanity Gwen had granted him with these last few days, and he wanted nothing more than to hear her voice. Have her soft and sweet tone calm him down, instead of some booze he would regret in the morning.

He contemplates calling her, but the voice in the back of his mind telling him not to burden her is loud in his head. It’s what he’s fighting against every time he tries to let her come close, the need to protect others from his own darkness is something that will forever be there. It’s also the one thing he promised Gwen he’d fight against, the thing he wouldn’t let come between them again.

So, he calls.

It takes a while for her to answer, causing him to nearly give up when her gentle but high-pitched voice takes over the line.

“Blake, I was literally just about to call you.” She says excitedly.

Despite his mental state, her excitement makes him chuckle. “Seems like I beat you to it.”

“Yes you did.” She affirms. “Are you okay? You sound sad.”

He closes his eyes against her soft voice and the feeling of being known so well by her, she could tell his mood immediately.

“Miranda was here today.” He says lowly, letting out a huge sigh.

He can hear her breath stutter at the other end of the line and he immediately tries to smooth over her worries.

“She was here to talk about what happened.” He corrects, finding it as hard as he expected to talk about it. “After all this time, Gwen. She just barges in here and tells me she needs to talk to me.”

Gwen’s soft breath coats his ear, and he can’t stand the miles between them, the inability to hold her close to him.

“So did you?” She asks softly. “Talk about it?”

He shakes his head. “I mean, a little. I can’t just—she can’t just ignore me for months and expect me to have a good reaction to her showing up here.”

“You reacted bad?”

“Define bad.” He states softly.

She makes a nervous sound; the one she’d make whenever he forced her to answer something she didn’t feel like she could articulate well.

“She probably came to you because it got too much for her. She needed the same thing you do—comfort.”

“I can’t give her that.” He says between clenched teeth.

By the way she exhaled shakily, he knew she was hurting for him. He wanted to tell her not to, but he couldn’t.

“I don’t blame you.” She answers softly.

Without meaning to, a lone tear slips from the corner of his eye, gliding down his cheek as he chokes on the emotion piling up in his throat. Some nights he does fine, the hurt a familiar ache he’s starting to get used to living with, but on some nights, he feels like he’s drowning in it and tonight is the latter.

“I don’t know how to make this hurt any less.”

“What do you need me to do, Blake? I’m here.”

“Just stay on the phone for a while.” He almost whispers, afraid she won’t. Afraid she’ll shut him down the way Miranda would.

“Ofcourse, I’m not going anywhere.” She soothes him gently. “Just take a breath. In and out.”

He lets her voice surround him, reminding him simply to breathe as she softly repeats the words a few more times until she’s sure he’s hearing them.

“When will you be here again?” He asks after a while, his breathing starting to steady again.

“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.” She starts softly, his heart starting to beat faster again as he fears the worst. “I was wondering if maybe you could come out here instead? I mean, I love being in LA, but with work picking up again it’s just not ideal to go away right now. I’m also looking for another place, cause I can’t stay at Lizzy’s for much longer and the flying back and forth is expensive and— “

“Gwen, baby, breathe.” He interjects, reminding _her_ to keep breathing now. “Ofcourse I’ll come to see you, I don’t care, I just want to be able to spend time with you again.”

She lets out a breath that sounds much like a relieved sigh and he hates to hear how she maybe expected him to say something else. He knows her ex-husband did quite a number on her too, the fear of rejection not solely on Blake, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to be the one to remove that from her being.

“Just tell me whenever suits you best.” He adds gently.

He doesn’t have to see her for him to know she’s smiling.

“Anytime suits me.” She says honestly, her words easing some of the pain he’d been feeling before. “But I don’t have much to do this weekend.”

“That’s three more days. I can do that.” Blake counters.

“Really?” She squeals.

He chuckles. “Yeah. Do you want me to book a room?” He asks, as he realizes she’s staying at her friend’s house.

“Yeah, but I’ll take care of that.” She says sweetly. “You just make sure you get here.”

He wouldn’t miss it for the world. Getting to see her again is the only thing getting him through tonight, the knowledge he’ll be able to hold her again in three days providing all the relief he needs right now. He knows he’ll have to ask her about her house hunting, see if they can come up with something to take these miles between them out of the occasion, but for now he’s content with seeing her in a hotel room in 72 hours.

“I’ll be there.”

There’s another moment of silence between them, the emotional exhaustion he feels settling into his bones fuels a bit of his frustration, not wanting to end this conversation at all. Negative feelings have always been a bit of a taboo for him—not when it regarded others, but allowing himself to go through the motions of life usually resulted in a bunch of unwanted feelings being swept away. He’s realizing now that in order to evolve into something better, sometimes you just need to let it out.

“I wish I could be there with you now.” Gwen softs voice speaks in his ear. “But you’re going to be just fine.”

“I hate this distance, you know?” He blurts out. “I want you here.”

He doesn’t know where the sudden desperation comes from, he’s barely had a sip of his drink before he called her—he shouldn’t be this far gone already.

“Blake...”

“I know. It’s what we agreed on.” He states quickly. “I just…. I miss you.”

It’s weird to think how the simple gesture of saying ‘I miss you’ became a bit foreign to him over the years. He’d use to tell Gwen all the time—she used to tell him even more. With Miranda, things were different. He’d miss her if he didn’t see her for a while, but he never felt allowed to voice that. She definitely barely did.

Saying the words to Gwen now, feels almost too much.

“I miss you too.” Gwen says softly, oblivious to his internal struggle. “You would think that after having missed each other for so long, we’d be a bit better at this.”

It’s typically Gwen for her to turn something already emotional into something even more meaningful—and he both loves and hates that she is this way.

“Do me a favour?” She says next.

“Anything.”

“Go get some rest.”

He doesn’t want to hang up and lose the sound of her voice, but he can’t deny his joints are killing him and the pain in his chest won’t go away unless he drinks himself into oblivion or sleeps the night away. The latter being much healthier.

“Okay.” He concedes. “I love you.”

She doesn’t miss a beat this time. “I love you too.”


	20. Chapter 20

He looks as good as ever, his bag swung over his shoulder as he walks the final steps towards her, his face softening at the sight of her. He’s just getting ready to put the bag down as she crashes into him, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

It’s crazy, she knows that; they’ve only been apart for a week. She hasn’t been able to think about anything else than this moment though, from the minute she left Los Angeles. She feels him exhale slowly as she allows herself to relax into his arms, his own coming across her upper back.

It takes them awhile before they dare to separate, and only when they do, does Blake finally speak.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

The words make her feel so many different emotions, she’s searching for the right thing to say in return. She doesn’t even know how to begin to describe how excited she is for him to be here right now.

“I’m so happy to see you.” She says after a moment, pulling back a little to make eye contact but her arms never leaving his waist. “I’ve missed you too.”

He smiles like he wasn’t sure if she’d say the words, relieved to hear that she did.

“I swear, these few days have been dragging on _forever_. I was starting to think I’d never see you again.”

She laughs at his dramatics, swatting playfully at his chest. “You’re such a drama queen, Blake Shelton.”

“You love it.” He retorts.

She doesn’t fight his statement, knowing that he’s not wrong—she loves it when he gets playful with her. Ready to get a little more serious, she looks up at him, her chin pressing into his chest. "You know what else I love?"

His hand rubbing circles on her lower back makes her want to melt into him completely, their surroundings be damned.

"What, sweetheart?"

"You." She answers pointedly. "I love you. We've already told each other a bunch of times, and I probably sound like a broken record but these few days apart just made me realize how much it sucks being unable to tell you face to face." She's slightly out of breath at the speed of which the words escaped her. "I'm so in love with you."

Despite indeed having heard it before, she can see his eyes watering at her words. It's been a while since they've started this thing again that she'd said these words so directly. Sure, she'd told him she loved him a bunch of times, but telling him she's _in_ _love_ with him has been something he'd always just read in between the lines--not something she necessary said out loud.

"I don't think you realize how badly I needed to hear that." He admits in a broken whisper.

"Yeah I did." She answers quietly before placing a soft kiss on his lips. “Do you want to go to the hotel room so you can leave your stuff there?” She asks after a brief moment.

He nods before smiling, dislodging his arms from around her back as he reaches his hand out for her. She comes easily, allowing them to intertwine their fingers together as he tugs her towards him a little. The clean smell of aftershave catches her attention as she stands so close to him. The butterflies she felt when she just met him are crashing into her twenty years later, like a tidal wave, and she’s glad to realize that taking things slow and pumping the breaks on what they’ve been doing before seems to have its desired effect.

He walks them towards the exit, as they make their way to her car as she drives them back to the hotel. The whole drive there, Blake’s hand lazily draws patterns on her knee, making her wish for the route to be ten times longer than it actually is.

The room, even though meant for one person, is easily big enough for two; the large windows giving it a spacey look. She’s proud of herself for arranging this, while also feeling good about being able to do something in return for him after having him fly out here on pretty short notice.

“If you’re done here, I want to show you something.” She says softly, walking up to him again.

“Now?” He asks a little taken aback, not thinking she would have something in store for him this soon.

“There’s no hurry, but yeah after you’re ready.” She replies, reaching out to run a hand down his arm.

“Give me one minute and I’m all yours.” He says before pecking her on the forehead. He disappears into the bathroom for a moment and when he comes back out, she takes his hand as she leads him back to the car. She drives down the familiar route to her office, the large building welcoming them as she waits for him to catch up to her. His eyes widen as she pushes open the glass door for him to enter, his eyes roaming around the large space.

“Jesus, you didn’t tell me you worked in a futuristic skyscraper.”

She giggles before taking his hand again, shaking her head softly. “Not quite, Blakey. But I definitely am lucky.”

The nickname slips out before she knows it, Blake’s mischievous smile showing her that he’s surprised to hear it, but not at all upset about it. It’s progress, since he used to hate it when she called him that when they were younger.

“Besides…” She continues as she leads them down the hall, towards the break room. “The office I’m transferred to in LA is a bit smaller.”

He looks at her a bit stunned. “That option is still there?”

She nods. “Ofcourse. The transfer had already been taken care of, I’m basically a guest here now.”

She hadn’t planned for this conversation to happen so soon, but her position here at the office is temporary since her move to LA has been officialized. Luckily she’s able to do most of her work from home and she only ever comes in here for important meetings or administrative purposes.

“So, your house hunting…”

She stops them in their tracks, walking up to him until her chest presses into his.

“…. will have to continue in California.” She finishes for him.

Blake shakes his head a little bewildered and she smiles at his adorableness. She guesses he didn’t want to get his hopes up, but technically it’s the most logical outcome. She basks in his confusion for a moment, letting herself melt into his chest as she clings at him. Realizing where they are, his eyes scan the room as he looks at her questionably.

“Are you sure you— “

“It’s a Saturday; most people aren’t here. The ones that are, aren’t in this break room as you can see...” She teases, running a finger down his chest. “And what if they were, are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“What, _no_ …” He scrambles, his eyes expressing a bit of panic. “Ofcourse not, I just don’t know what is allowed, or if you even feel comfortable with showing PDA at work, I….”

“Blake, baby, I’m just messing with you. Relax.” She says sweetly, biting her lip as she feels a little guilty for just making him freak out like that.

He takes both her hands in his, casting another look at the vacant break room. “Do you think that’s funny, Stefani?”

The use of her last name makes her blush. “I’m sorry babe, that was just too good not to.”

They’re standing even closer together now, if that’s even possible, their eyes locked as he licks his lips. It’s blatantly obvious what he wants to do, but he bites his lip in order to control himself—somewhat.

“So what do you think of this place?” She asks giddily, changing the subject into safer waters.

“If you meant to impress me with this fancy building to show me what a hotshot you are, it’s definitely working.” 

She tears her eyes away from him towards their joined hands, loving the way they link together so smoothly. She remembers their conversation about compliments, but as she stands in front of him now, she can't seem to take his in. Images of being shot down and talked down upon by her ex-husband make it hard to believe anything positive that comes out of Blake's mouth right now.

“I mean it, Gwen.” He says suddenly, waiting for her eyes to snap up to his again. “This place is amazing. _You_ are amazing.”

“You showed me around the studio while I stayed with you, so I thought it’d be only right to show you my workplace too.” She says softly. “I know you don’t care for fashion at all and this is probably way too flashy for you, but— “

“Hey.” He interrupts, his eyes looking at her sweetly. “Did you hear anything of what I just said? It’s amazing here, I’m so glad you decided to show me this place. Don’t gloss over your achievements like that, baby.”

She wishes she wouldn’t get emotional so fast, and she wishes she hadn’t had to get used to downplaying herself to avoid arguments—but neither one of these wishes are the truth.

She swallows roughly, her finger playing with the button of his shirt. “Gavin has never been here.” She says, her voice below a whisper as she can’t stand to face him in this moment—knowing the look of pity she’s bound to find there.

Blake shakes his head. “He’s never been— _Gwen_ , how’s that possible after so many years?”

She shrugs it off, but her heart feels heavy as she lays out the truth for him. “I invited him a few times, but he just always told me he was busy or that he had better things to do. I got tired of being rejected, so I just stopped asking after a while.”

The truth makes her nauseous, the way these words sound to her now, make her angry all over again for putting up with it for so long.

His hand tightens on her back as he pushes her more firmly into his chest. “I’m sorry, Gwen.”

She sniffs, managing to keep the tears away.

“That’s why it was so weird talking to him the other day and having him stay at the hospital. He never cared that way about me before.”

Blake nods, and she watches a realization dawn onto his handsome features. “Sometimes it takes losing someone to realize how much you need that person.”

She looks up at him and smiles gently, her hand cupping his cheek. “I love you, you know that?”

He bites his lip, his hand on her back squeezing a little. “I love you too.”

“Good.” She whispers. “You might want to remember that….”

He cocks his head in curiosity. “And why’s that?”

“I know this is probably not what you’ve been waiting on, but Lizzy knows about you coming to see me and she really wanted to cook for us tonight…. _and…_.”

She's afraid to face him suddenly. She knows it's not what he expected or how he hoped tonight would go and if this were Gavin, there would be a full-blown argument that resulted in him going somewhere else, getting what he wanted elsewhere.

“And you’ve already said yes, didn’t you?”

She bites on the top of her index finger briefly, before nodding shyly.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t say no to her.”

He chuckles before placing a kiss on the finger she just abused with her teeth.

“Then I guess we’re having dinner at Lizzy’s tonight.”

*

Despite it being _her_ friend, Blake was the one having to give _her_ a pep talk before entering. Blake's never met any of her friends and Lizzy is the only one who knows about the pain she's been through with him. She's the only one who saw Gwen at her darkest moments after both break ups. 

Dinner is delicious. Lizzy is a great cook—unlike her—and she really outdid herself this time. She can tell by the time her friend is at her second glass of wine, that she’s contemplating broaching a topic Gwen would rather not see her start.

“So, Gwen told me you guys have quite some history.”

She tries to make eye-contact with her friend, ready to plead with her to take it easy on him, but Lizzy’s eyes are solely focused on Blake’s. Luckily he doesn’t seem too phased by it.

“We sure do. It’s been one hell of a ride.”

Her friend chews and swallows before replying.

“Yeah, she told me that too.” Lizzy adds carefully, probably feeling Gwen’s eyes piercing a hole through the side of her face.

Making eye-contact with Blake, Gwen smiles supportively. “And now we’re here.”

“Damn right.”

Lizzy digs her fork into her pasta, swirling them around the silverware. “It’s a big step to move though. Gwen’s ready to leave this all behind for you, which in all honesty, scares me a bit.”

Gwen’s hands start to become clammy as she realizes where this conversation is headed to quickly. “ _Liz_ ….”

Instead of getting defensive, she watches Blake nod sympathetically. “I get that.” He states softly. “To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect when it came to that—I figured there was a pretty good chance she had changed her mind.”

“Should she have?” Lizzy asks then. “Changed her mind, I mean?”

“No.” Gwen buts in, ready for this conversation to end. “I’ve built a life here; I did what I wanted to do and I’m proud of that. But I’m finally at a place in my life where I feel confident about moving back to where I came from. I’ve been running from there my whole life. I’m ready now.”

Blake’s smile is nearly blinding and Lizzy looks at her full of emotion. She knows her friend is just being protective, knowing how much she’s been hurt by her ex-lovers in the past, but she ultimately wants her friend to be happy—if that’s something she’ll obtain by moving, she’d never stand in the way of that. Gwen knows that much.

“I’m glad to know she’s had someone like you in her corner the whole time.” Blake adds while looking at her friend. “Lord knows she needed that.”

Lizzy’s face softens a bit at his words, smiling back at Gwen. “She’s a special person.”

Blake’s eyes glister with recognition. “Don’t I know it. She’s been my saving Grace throughout everything and she doesn’t even know it.”

Trying not to cry, she smiles around a sip of wine, setting the glass back onto the table as she reaches out over the table to cover his hand.

“I’m positive we’ll make it work this time.” She says while looking at Blake, though she’s talking to them both.

“You have a spark in your eyes that I haven’t seen from you yet.” Lizzy admits softly, smiling at the sight in front of her; Gwen still holding on to Blake’s hand. 

“I’m happy.” She whispers, suddenly a bit bashful underneath both of their gazes.

Blake lifts his hand so he can grab hers, as he holds it up against his mouth and kisses the top of her hand before letting go.

“Prettier words have never been spoken.”

*

Things hadn’t gone as awkwardly as she expected. Sure, her friend couldn’t help herself and interrogated him a bit, but that’s also why she loves her so much. Blake dealt with it great, she’d even go as far to say he made a fan out of Lizzy. She can’t blame her friend either—Blake has this way of charming people that shouldn’t be legal, his generosity and kindness will always find its way into people’s hearts.

What she wants now is for his attention to be entirely hers.

She hasn’t gotten to the subject of tonight yet. Despite the spaciousness of the hotel room, there’s only one bed and he still hasn’t even touched her yet. Her eyes scan over the unfamiliar room, Blake’s proximity becoming clear as she feels his breath on her neck. All thought nearly escapes her when his hands find solace on her hips, pushing her back into him a little.

“Whatcha thinking about, gorgeous?”

The low tremor of his voice creates a breathless moment that she’s unable to escape. Despite her growing need for him, her voice and hands stay completely innocent. 

She turns around to face him, smiling sweetly. “I’m thinking about how glad I am to have you alone for a second.”

He grins and she realizes suddenly how dangerous his smiles are. 

“I have an idea.” He speaks softly.

She cocks her head. “What are you up to, Blake?”

He laughs as he turns away from her, seeking out his phone as he intensely scrolls down his screen. If she were curious before, she’s now just plainly confused as he deters his attention away from her so suddenly to look up something on his phone.

“Blake, what…”

“Shh, one second.” He says, his tongue pushing past his lips in concentration. “Got it.”

He looks at her again and holds his hands out for her, waiting for the moment she closes the distance. Which she does quickly but hesitantly.

“Remember the first time you told me you liked me?”

Their height difference puts her almost face to face with his chest, making it a bit easier to divert her eyes away from his as she looks at his black shirt, unbuttoned just enough to reveal a few light chest hairs.

“Uh, yeah…. Adam wasn’t home for some reason and you drove us to his place. You made me listen to songs I’d never heard before. We danced after I told you.”

His eyes sparkle at the memory. Hers get clouded with tears.

He holds his phone up again before leaning past her to put it on the nightstand next to the freshly made up bed; the white sheets looking ever so inviting as she thinks about just walking them back and get them tangled up there. Her dirty images soon evaporate when Blake plays the song she recognizes as the one they danced to _that_ night.

“Blake.” She gasps, her eyes watering again. The beginning instrumentals of Foreigner’s I Want To Know What Love Is starting to fill the room.

“Allow me to have this dance?”

The emotionally charged moment comes out in the form of a smile, her hands reaching out for him immediately. His arms slide across her lower back as he sways them inside the comfort of these four walls, the unfamiliarly of the hotel room making it both more foreign and thrilling. She sneaks closer to his body, her arms around his neck as she lets him lead them.

“I can’t believe you remembered that.” She whispers, the feeling of comfort she experiences whule being held like this close to indescribable.

“What? Dancing with my dream girl after she told me she liked me?” He whispers in her ear, just loud enough for the music to not drown it out. “Yeah, I don’t think I could ever forget that.”

She lays her head on his shoulder, into the crook of his neck and she can feel his hands faltering on her back slightly. He recovers quickly though, the way he moves them so closely together and his scent flying up her nostrils has her need growing again within seconds.

“I remember several occasions in which we did more than just dance to this song.” She whispers against his neck.

He chuckles. “Oh our legendary make out sessions? I didn’t forget about those either.” He looks at her with his blue eyes slightly darkening, pretending to reminisce about one of them as they stand chest to chest. “Nope, _definitely_ didn’t forget about those.”

She laughs shyly, his large hand on her lower back suddenly feeling heavier as she desperately wants him to make a move now. She thinks by the way he’s looking at her and his breathing getting slightly louder that he knows what she wants, but he doesn’t break the moment, instead keeps swaying them until the song eventually fades out.

There’s a moment of just looking at each other, he maintains his composure as he still holds her against him, but his eyes betray exactly how much he needs her. A need she’s done denying them both—technically this is their third date.

“Fuck.” She mutters before she pulls him closer and decides enough of enough, she can’t wait any longer—she needs him now.

Her words of surrender are weak and breathless as she uses all her energy on grasping his shirt with both hands as she pulls his mouth to hers. Lips and breaths are all that collide and her back suddenly makes contact with the hotel room wall. He must’ve pushed her against it or she must’ve stumbled backwards, pulling his body with her—she doesn’t even know, or care. Everything’s a haze, both moving impatiently, seemingly not knowing where to touch each other first. It’s messy and chaotic, but exactly what she needs right now.

Blake’s mouth descends her neck, her chest, heading unerringly for her breasts.

“Fuck yes.” She moans, her chest rising and falling rapidly.

She can’t remember the last time she’s been this turned on, and Blake seems to realize the same thing if the way his eyes sparkle in amusement are any indication.

Deciding she needs him to catch up with her quickly, her hand lands on his chest as she starts to slowly slide it down. Her palm grazes against his shirt, over his stomach, past his belt. She lets her hand cover his jean clad erection, cupping him through his pants. His answering groan makes her smile up at him, proud of the reaction she extracted from him.

“I need you.” Is all he says, his voice hoarse and low. Perfect.

“You got me.”

It’s all she needs to say for him to growl a response, pulling her away from the wall as he walks her backwards towards the bed, before giving her a forceful push that has her bending her knees as her back hits the mattress. She can feel her heart pounding, the anticipation of what he has in store for her almost too much to bear. He hovers over her as his hands run down legs, making its way into her pants.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are yet today?” He whispers against her neck, causing goosebumps to erupt down her spine.

She can do nothing but lay underneath him, tortured by his teasing, but also liking the way his touches are heating her up. He shifts onto his side then, flattening her out in the process as he grins down at her.

“What do you want?”

“You.” She whispers, desperate and needy. “Anything you want.”

He chuckles. “I’m holding you to that, sweetheart.” He says before disregarding her pants and chucking it aside, watching it fall to the ground. “Try to be quiet.”

She looks at him funny. “Why would I need to _be_ …” Her breath hitches when his finger slides past the fabric of her underwear, her head dropping backwards onto the pillow. “Oh my god.”

“Shhhh.” He whispers as he slips one finger inside of her with ease, her arousal soon making it possible for a second finger to be pushed in easily. She couldn’t even speak if she wanted to, the way he twists his fingers, sliding it in and out of her, is rendering her speechless.

“Relax, baby.” He tells her gently when she reaches for his wrist and grabs it tightly. “Breathe. Just feel.”

His low voice does nothing to help her overheating state, her body already showing signs of being close to the edge. Her hand now slides up his arm, scraping her nails against his flesh in attempt to regain some control. He can tell she’s bluffing though and her control is quickly slipping away from her.

“Please kiss me.” She whispers softly, her breathing ragged and uneven.

Blake just smirks as he leans over her, his head nuzzling her nose for a moment before he kisses her. She gasps noiselessly into his mouth at another thrust of his fingers, her hand sliding to the back of his neck. She feels his thumb circling her clit and she can’t help but let out a tiny squeak. She feels her leg starting to tremble in time with her back tightening up.

“Are you close, baby?” He asks lowly, despite knowing the answer already.

She nods against him, deepening the kiss as he pushes his fingers into her harder. She knows he wants to make her cum desperately and he’s about to get his wish. The pad of his thumb keeps massaging her clit and he knows exactly how to manipulate her body into giving in to him quickly.

“Baby…” He whispers against her lip. “Let go for me.”

Her back arches at his words, she holds onto him, not letting go as she opens her eyes right before she feels the tremors take her. She feels her muscles twitch and jerk, her fingers digging deeply into his shoulder.

“That’s it.” He encourages her as she tightens against his fingers, her release flowing freely as he easily makes her cum.

He grins down once more as he extracts his fingers from her, looking at her mischievously before licking them clean. She moans and closes her eyes, the sight of it causing her to tighten again, missing the feeling of him inside of her to redeem some of the pressure.

He’s slow with getting undressed, too slow. She impatiently sits up and helps tug his shirt over his head, quickly taking off hers as well. When she finally has him naked, she times the moment to perfection to flip him over onto his back as she straddles him.

“Please…” She starts again, but he just uses his hand to lower her face to his, placing kisses all over her neck and collarbone as her fingers thread through his curls. Her eyes flutter shut, a long moan escaping her lips as she gets worked up again under his clever mouth.

“Blake, stop. I need you inside me.”

The tone of her voice must’ve done him in or his own desperation is getting the best of him, because he lets her go and watches her intensely as she positions him at her center before slowly sliding down. As rough and chaotic as they were moments before, as slow and sensual her movements are now. It’s been all she could think about for weeks, the need to be with him like this makes it impossible for her to rush things.

“Fuck Gwen, you feel so incredible.”

He hugs her on top of him and she grinds her hips into his, her fingers still buried in his hair. She sucks on his tongue and moans into his mouth, her body is burning and her head is spinning; it feels like their first time all over again—only better. She whimpers at the fullness, all her nerve endings on fire by the onslaught of sensations.

“Oh god, Blake.”

He slides a hand over her spine as he thrusts into her messily and she can’t help the high-pitched scream that erupts from her. He takes the moment to flip them over again, until he’s got her on her back, hovering over her.

“It’s gonna be over too fast if I let you stay up there.” He whispers against her open mouth.

She doesn’t even care how he wants her, she just wants to keep building the delicious friction that has her close to spiralling out of control. She bucks her hips up at him, signalling she needs more. His movements become deeper and more deliberate as he grunts his own approval.

“I’m close.” She breathes, her hands finding solace on his back, pushing him into her more. He answers by thrusting forward hard, not letting up until he finds her sweet spot.

Her hands move from his back, to his biceps, back up to his chest. This must be what it feels like to be taken out of your mind with pleasure.

“I love you so much, Gwen. You know that?” He thrusts again where the pleasure is blinding. “You know how much I want you?”

She tries to ignore the way he’s so skilfully handling her body or how hot his words are when he whispers them against her lips, all in favour of not wanting this to end, but the moment he sucks and licks against her pulse point, she feels all of that slipping. She comes hard, bowing into his touch as he spills into her simultaneously.

After what feels like hours, he gently shifts from his place above her until he’s laying on his back next to her. She curls up into the warmth of his chest, collapsing there as he holds her tightly. She traces patterns on his chest absently, while his hand runs softly through her hair until her breathing evens out a bit.

He takes a long breath and she feels his chest rise underneath her. “I love you.”

“ _Mmmm_.” She stretches up to reach his face and kisses him slowly in response. “I love you too.”

His hand pushes past her hair so it can rest against her cheek, his gaze locked on the ceiling.

“You love me.”

“I love you.” She repeats softly, propping her head up on her hand to look at him. He’s always a sight to behold, but the Blake Shelton that had just fallen apart is something else entirely.

“I know.” He says sheepishly, his blissed out and equally as tired expression causing her to smile widely. “I just like hearing it.”

She hasn’t forgotten about how broken he’d sounded over the phone a couple days ago, how desperately he needed to be with her again, so she decides to continue telling him what he needs to hear until he’s relaxed enough to slip into slumber.

She shifts a little bit, climbing his body once more as she whispers these three words into his lips repeatedly until they both drift off.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you who reached out to me on Twitter and who consistently comment on this story. I’m super grateful.
> 
> I also would like to point out that I’ve noticed that some of you struggle a bit with the timeline in this story, so just know I’m gonna try to be better at that (to give some perspective, the first chapter happened around 8 months ago). Again, thanks for all the feedback!

With her cheek resting on his shoulder, right below his collarbone, and the heat of his body keeping her warm, she thinks this is what it must feel like to feel perfectly content. She’s for once not swarmed with ‘what if’ scenarios or fears about where to go from here. His soft breathes hit her cheek as his arm comes around her back, his hand on her lower spine.

She can’t remember how long they stayed tangled up in each other, all she knows is that the evidence of him all over her last night stays as a heavenly ache on her body. She wants this forever; his nights, his mornings, his arms holding her close even in his sleep. Right here in this moment, nothing else matters.

His hand on her back shifts slightly as he starts waking up, hearing him take a few conscious breathes to gather his bearings. She’s tucked up against his body without an inch of space between them and she can tell by his heartbeat that he’s affected by it the same way she is.

He chuckles lowly, the first sound he makes after officially getting rid of the last strands of slumber. “We’re staying in this bed all day today. Just so you know.”

She moves her leg over his knee, her feet sliding down to his calves until she’s completely stretched out. “That doesn’t sound like a very productive day.” She teases.

“It sounds perfect.” He retorts, deadpanning any playful objections she might have.

His hand on her back moves up to the back of her neck and she lets herself fall gently into his touch. Her attraction and connection to Blake has always made her that much more willing to submit to his closeness. In her previous relationship, she disliked being handled this intimately, but here in bed with him, she meets his gaze as her face heats up from the rising temperatures he’s creating.

“Do you mind?” He asks suddenly, her eyes shooting up to his in confusion.

“Do I mind?”

“Technically that weren’t three dates.” He says sweetly. “I wouldn’t kiss you until after our third date and now we’re…. _here_.”

Tears spring to her eyes at his words, his mouth so close to hers. The look in his eyes does nothing to ease the cloudiness of her irises, somehow asking for the permission she’d already granted him.

“I wanted you.” She says sternly, her hand running up his chest. “I couldn’t wait any longer, besides we booked a room together, danced to our favorite song—that’s better than most dates people get to experience.”

“Still…”

“No, unless _you_ regret it, there’s no but.” She interjects, her voice suddenly a little less forceful as a hint of insecurity laces her words—the last thing she wants is for him to regret this.

“I want you too, Gwen. Always.” He answers, pecking her forehead. “I just had to be sure, you know?”

“I get it.” She says truthfully.

“That night when I called you—I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since. Just getting to hold you. It was torture not having you there.”

She knows he’s just being honest with her, but she can’t help but to feel a bit guilty for not being there when he so obviously needed her.

“And before you say it, you _were_ there for me.” He adds before she can verbalize her guilt.

She smiles up at him, her fingers smoothing over the stubble on his chin. “I thought about nothing but this either.”

He gently wrestles her then, making her squeal in surprise. When he gets her body underneath his, he forces her hands above her head, running his hand down her body.

“We won’t let it happen again.” He says as his hand sweeps through her hair, invading her personal space again.

She gets a panicked look in her eyes, her eyebrows shooting up. “What? I thought you said you wanted…. you don’t want…”

Her panic seems to finally translate in Blake’s brain.

“Darling, no…I’m not talking about this— _this_ will happen again and again, every night for the rest of our lives if you’re up for it.” He winks with a smirk. “I meant that we won’t lose each other again. We won’t let that happen another time.”

A relieved sigh leaves her lips.

“And unless you have any objections, I’d like to show you exactly how much I meant everything I just said.”

That mischievous sparkle in his eyes returns, and she wiggles a little underneath him in anticipation. Kissing always has been one of their favorite past times. Some days they could lie on the couch and have hot make out sessions for hours. Just knowing that they can toe the line of having sex but never actually go there thrills them somehow. The burn between her legs when he would suck and bite at her neck until hickeys formed had always been her favorite feeling; because in bed was the only time he could be truly possessive.

The ease in which he supplies her with the most intense pleasure has her hoping he was serious about not leaving this bed all day.

*

“I thought you promised to keep me in bed all day.” She pouts playfully, her hand tugging on his as she tries to get his full attention.

She loves how he never let’s go of her hand, no matter where they are. It would remind her that not only does he steady her, he needs her closeness for himself. The parking lot is empty which she blames the weather for, the cold had made the prospect of staying tangled up in the sheets that much more alluring—as if she needed any more reasons.

Blake chuckles. “We needed some drinks….and food. I can’t let my girl starve.”

“I was doing just fine.” She says seductively, clinging to him so much it makes it harder for him to keep walking. “Plus there’s room service.”

“This way there won’t be any interruptions.” He winks. He leans down to peck her lips quickly before pulling back and moving them forward once again. “I promise to get you back in that bed as soon we’re done here.” 

She doesn’t know what it is about him that has her so desperate, but she can’t get herself to create an inch of space between them. She lets Blake lead them through the supermarket, not really having many demands other than getting out of here quickly.

It was almost alarming how much their relationship had been able to evolve into what she’s been wanting and needing all along. They’re back to that place where doing the simplest things together felt like the most fun. Holding his hand as he leads them down the various food isles is enough to make it feel like one of the best days she’s had so far. It’s normal, yet nothing is normal about the love she feels flooding through her veins for this man.

Blake swipes his card as he pays for the products and as they’re about to exit the store, he tugs at her hand causing her to stop. “There’s an ATM here, give me one second.” He says gently, letting go of her hand.

She takes a few quick strides over to him, going for the plastic bag in his hand, smiling softly. “Here, I’ll take that. I’ll go get the car.”

This weather is not for her. Living in New York still hasn’t done much to build her immunity against the cold, shivers popping up her spine have her a bit restless on her feet. Blake smiles as he seems to understand what’s going on before handing her the bag, pecking her lips one more time for good measure as he promises again to be quick.

She juggles holding the bag in one hand as she searches through her purse for her car keys, her head jerking up at the sound of a familiar voice catching her attention. Her eyes lock with Gavin’s, his pace quickening as he approaches her.

“Gavin, this is not a good time.” She says, ignoring the way he walks with her to her car.

“I want to talk about what happened.” He says next, not paying any mind to the change in her demeanour, indicating how uncomfortable she is. “I want to talk about _us_ , what we have.”

She shakes her head in disbelief, unlocking the car from a small distance before opening the backdoor to set down the groceries.

“Just listen to me for a second.” He rushes to her side, facing her as soon as the door shuts and she’s left with nothing to occupy her hands with and nowhere to go.

“Gavin, there’s nothing to talk about. That part of us is over—it’s been over for quite some time.”

“Is that why that night you poured your heart to _me_ , not him?”

Her eyes widen, as her throat dries up. She knew it was a bad idea when she did it, but for some reason she never imagined it coming back in this way.

“I was drunk and messed up.” She tries to defend herself, while also making it clear to him he’s seeing this wrong. “That night, it was a mistake. It didn’t mean anything.”

After spending so many years with this man, she’s become pretty good at seeing whenever he was truly hurt—today being one of these moments. Her heart grows heavy with a bit of guilt and confusion at the sight; he’s never cared for her enough to let her distance get to him, he’d always been the one pushing _her_ away. 

“No one hurt you as much as he did.” Gavin tries another time, ignoring the way she tries to brush him off. “He’s gonna do it again, you know that.”

She turns around, scanning the parking lot for Blake desperately. Both dreading and anticipating the moment he walks out.

Turning to Gavin again, she tries to give him a final warning. “You need to go. Go home, forget about this…”

“No, I’m not going anywhere. Not until you hear me out.”

She shakes her head desperately, her car keys digging into the flesh of her hand as she subconsciously tightens her hold on them.

“Blake is going to be here any minute; how do you think this will look to him?”

“Is that how it’s gonna be from now?” He pushes. “You being afraid of his reactions?”

She knows she shouldn’t, knows he’s just throwing the bait, but she can’t help but take the bite. In her anger, she takes a step forward, hissing the words as she throws them at him.

“You’re twisting my words. You really want to talk about me having to walk on eggshells? Cause you and I know a thing or two about that...”

When he takes a step forward as well, she needs to step backwards to avoid physical contact, Blake’s voice causing her to jump seconds later.

“What’s going on here?”

The inevitable moment causes her brain to go a bit haywire, unable to detect what the best way to deal with this situation is. As she turns around to face Blake, she can tell he’s running low on patience already—his last encounter with Gavin having taken up most of his patience for the man.

“Blake, let’s get in the car.” She puts a hand to his chest, trying to steer him away from her ex-husband. She thinks she might get somewhere, until Gavin decides to speak up and stir the pot some more.

“Do you enjoy watching her crumble?” He sneers almost too calmly. “Cause you know that will happen, just like it did before.”

As easy as he let her lead him to the other side of the car, as easy as he manoeuvres her out of his way, walking back around to face the guy who’s been getting on his nerves ever since he’d learned about his existence. She knows how much it took for him to keep it civil before, she also knows that he won’t extend that courtesy again if he’s pushed too far.

Blake cocks his head mockingly, standing way too close to him for Gwen’s liking. “I feel like you need to get some things off your chest, so why don’t you say them to me instead of bothering Gwen with it.”

Gavin chuckles. “As crazy as this might sound to you, we can actually talk without it ending up with her having a panic attack.”

Her first instinct is to fight his statement, but she decides to ignore him so she can focus her attention on Blake—who she knows well enough to know is on the verge of taking the bait.

“ _Blake_.” She says firmly, her hand on his chest as she tries to reason with him. “Don’t listen to him, let’s go.”

She watches him contemplate what she’s saying, only for Gavin to try him again. “Like really, tell me, what do you think you could _possibly_ do for her?”

“Gavin!” Gwen sneers angrily, her head snapping towards him. “Enough.”

She can feel her heartrate quickly spiralling out of control at the scene that’s about to ensue. She wants to get Blake out of here as soon as possible, but she also knows Gavin and how he will do whatever he can to antagonize him.

“He made you feel like you didn’t deserve to be loved— _you_ told me that!” He throws back in her face, her heart dropping as she looks up at a bewilderedly looking Blake.

She shakes her head frantically, her eyes watering. “That’s not what I said...” She whispers, the situation quickly escalating into something she can no longer manage or keep together.

After what feels like a lifetime, Blake seems to get some of his bearings back and steps away from both her _and_ Gavin, her stomach hurting at the scenarios that are most likely going through his head right now. She wants to get him alone so they can talk, so she can tell him how Gavin had twisted her words and how she couldn’t possibly regret opening up to him more than she does.

None of that she can do here.

Lost in her own trail of thought, she’s a few seconds too late as Blake makes a beeline around her and slams Gavin against the side of her car, his hands gripping his collar.

“Blake!” She yells, rushing to his side as she tries to pull him off.

“I don’t know why you’re here right now,” Blake hisses angrily, his grip still ever so tightly, “Or what you hope to achieve with this little performance, but you’re too late. Whatever you hope to get from her, whatever you desperately want back—let it go.”

“Or what?” Gavin spits back, his body jerking a bit as he tries to get out of the hold Blake has him in, without any success.

“Stay away from her or so help me God, I _will_ hurt you.” His grip on him tightens some more, making sure he knows he’s serious.

“Blake…” She tries again, her hand now gently on his arm.

She doesn’t need to do much more convincing before Blake’s hand retreats to himself and Gavin’s hand flies up to his throat to rub at the sore spot as he’s released from his hold. She lets out a relieved sigh, her eyes pleading with Blake to walk away from the situation now. The quickness in which he looks away from her hurts, but seeing him honour her wish and open the door to the passenger’s seat, brings some relief.

“You’re making a mistake, Gwen.” Gavin says suddenly, his hand still at his throat.

She watches Blake’s hand tense on the car door, her eyes snapping up to Gavin’s in disbelief. Taking one step closer to her ex-husband, she points her index finger at him in warning.

“You and I—we’re done. I love Blake and that will never change. You need to leave us alone, for good.”

“Gwen…”

She realizes that the only way they’ll ever get out of here, is for her to just get in her car and drive, so she ignores his voice when it reaches her again and gets in the car, ordering Blake to do the same.

“Blake, get in the car.”

His jaw is tense and his hand is still gripping the car door tightly, seemingly fighting every fibre in his being that’s telling him to go over there once more and beat the shit out of her smug looking ex-husband. She’s still not entirely sure that he won’t.

Still, her voice must’ve had some power behind it because a few seconds later Blake slides in next to her, the door shutting forcefully as he lets his frustration out the only way he knows how to. She watches Gavin walk away out of her rear-view mirror, the look on his face one of anger and defeat.

She goes to put the key into the ignition, but Blake’s firm voice stops her dead in her tracks.

“Don’t.”

She feels the need to swallow a few times, her throat still dry as hell. “Don’t you wanna get out of here?” 

“What did you talk about with him that night?”

She shakes her head, the memories of that night fuzzy and blurry and the ones she does remember clearly ones she’d rather forget about.

“I didn’t tell him _that_.” She refers to Gavin’s earlier statement.

“I didn’t ask you what you didn’t tell him, Gwen. I want to know what you _did_ say. Everything.”

The seriousness in his tone makes her uneasy and she knows that sound—he’s hurting and they’re just getting on the right track again. This is the last emotion she wanted him to cause and once again she’s failing.

“Blake, I promise you, I was drunk and emotional and I don’t even remember half the stuff I told him.”

Both of her hands grip the steering wheel in attempt to keep it together, but Blake seems determined to get answers this time.

“What did you tell him?”

She shudders out a breath, leaning her head back so it leans on the headrest. “I told him we fought and that you hurt me. How I didn’t feel like I was good enough for you.”

Blake nods. “And? What else?”

She shakes her head. “There was nothing else. That was it.”

She watches him process the information while he occasionally glances her way, but mostly keeps his gaze locked with the windshield. “You’re telling me you spent the whole night with him in a fucking bar and that’s all you told him?”

His sudden use of profanity shocks her, but she recovers quickly, turning around to face him completely as she tries to get his attention.

“I didn’t spend the whole night with him.” She says calmly, not once looking away. “Blake, I know you’re hurt and I get it, I’d be hurt too. But this is the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do again—don’t shut me out.”

Her words resonate with him, because he sits back into the seat, letting his eyes wander up to hers again.

“He knew stuff about us.” Blake says defeated.

She can’t help it then, her hand reaches out for his face as she pushes herself closer to him, internally cursing out the consoler that keeps them apart.

“Baby, I should’ve never let my guard down with him like that and I definitely shouldn’t have let him in on our business. I really am sorry, Blake, I…. I was scared I’d lost you forever; that my antics had scared you away for good and I didn’t know what to do, so I got drunk and didn’t think.”

She knows her words won’t win a Pulitzer anytime soon, but at least it’s the truth. His hand moves to where her hand is placed on his cheek as he brings it down and for a moment she’s afraid he’s creating distance. Instead, he holds her hand firmly in his as he brings it to his lap.

“I was _this_ close to hitting him.” He admits softly.

She lowers her head knowingly. “I know.”

“I’m not mad at you for talking to him.” He says eventually, squeezing her hand. “Hell, I’ve done much worse things while being drunk.” His arm reaches out to rest on her shoulder. “I’m just mad he brought it up and I’m mad at myself for not being there that night, for not being the one to…”

“Don’t even finish that sentence, Blake.” She cuts him off before he can speak that thought out loud. “I was in a bad place and worked myself up in a panic, you couldn’t possibly have known that would happen. Plus, you literally flew over immediately when you heard—no one else would’ve done that for me.”

“He still wants you.” Blake states, the obvious statement hanging there for a bit before Gwen reacts.

“It won’t matter. It doesn’t matter already, but it really won’t matter in a little while.” Blake frowns at her, cocking his head as he waits for her to elaborate. “I mean, you’re only here for a few days and like I said, I can’t stay at Lizzy’s forever. I’m moving away as soon as I can, neither one of us will ever run into him again.”

She hears him exhale a bit shakily, as if this subject was one he’s been nervous about for a while and she bites her lip as she accesses his nerves.

“I didn’t want to presume you’d come back with me or anything, but do you know _when_ you’ll be moving? If you don’t, that’s totally fine, I don’t want to pressure you.”

She smiles at his cuteness, giggling a little. She also know the _real_ question he was meaning to ask, as the option of moving in again had been weighing heavily on her mind as well. 

“How about we talk about this some more when we get back to the hotel?” She winks.

He throws his hands up in a surrendering gesture before smiling and sinking back into his seat.

*

He wasn’t lying when he said he’d get her back in bed. They’d gotten rid of some of the groceries they’d bought, but kept some snacks close to the nightstand. Only with Blake was it always so easy to stay inside and do nothing. In the past they would spend off days in bed with each other, not leaving the bed unless they needed to use the bathroom. It’s surreal to think not even her dreams had ever come anywhere close to this reality—having that again someday, with the same person.

The situation of earlier still weighs heavy on her chest though and she could only imagine how much Blake must still be thinking about it. She knows he trusts her, but it doesn’t sit well with her despite all her efforts to talk all suspicious scenarios out of his mind.

He lowers his head a little then, urging her up to his level as he kisses her. The sheets do little to hide her semi-naked frame to him, but he doesn’t seem to care. His fingers are on her chin, seemingly to keep her there, but she follows him without any protest anyways. The gentle brush of his lips against hers feels so soft and tender, she wonders if it’s actually happening—not used to anything feeling like this.

“You’re thinking too much.” He murmurs against her lips, pulling away from her so he can shift into a sitting position.

She watches him sit against the headboard, his arms inviting her to come snuggle against the side of his body, which she does without any more prompting.

“Aren’t you?” She asks softly, letting her mind wander off to the unfortunate run-in.

He sighs heavily, his hand playing with her bare shoulder. “I’m trying not to.”

Her eyes flick away from his, down to her fingertips, as his gaze is suddenly too intense to hold. “I’m sorry.” She whispers regretfully, mentally kicking herself for letting it get that far that night in the bar, the alcohol making her spill her relationship issues to a man she knows can’t handle that responsibility.

“Please don’t apologize to me for his actions.” He shuts down quickly.

“The things he said…. please don’t take them serious.”

“Which ones?” Blake huffs a little uneasy. “The one where he accused me of being a bad influence on you or the one where he indicated you’d regret this?”

“All of it.” She says sternly. “All of it, because none of it is true. You know that.”

She leans her head against his shoulder, eying him as he swallows roughly. She hates bringing this up and talking about it, but these are the things they used to have ran far away from, she’s learned her lesson, this time they’ll talk about it all and resolve it before it can grow into something toxic that tries to destroy them later.

“You _do_ know that, right?” She whispers softly, her hand resting on his chest directly over his heart.

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Look at me.” She orders softly, not removing her hand from his chest. “Look at me and tell me that again.”

He’s a bit hesitant in meeting her eyes, but eventually gives in. His deep blues are now clouded with a hint of grey, but she doesn’t let it deter her from what they’re doing. She needs to know he’s confident about where he stands with her.

“I do know that.” He repeats, this time while looking at her. “I just hate that he gets to say that crap, betray your trust, and I don’t get to do a single thing about it.”

“You _did_ do something about it.” She says, her head shaking.

“Talk to him about it? Warn him? Guys like him don’t listen to that, Gwen.”

“So what did you want to do?” She asks smiling up at him gently. “Beat the shit out of him? You think that would’ve done any good?”

“For starters.” Blake’s voice is serious as he addresses her. “He’s gotten to treat you bad for years, and I know, I _know_ I’ve done my fair share of messing up as well, but he just…he seems to get joy out of acting like an asshole.”

His words hit her hard, the truth of those words causing her to fidget a little in his arms.

“See?” Blake says suddenly, referring to her change of posture. “God, I wish I’d smacked him when I had the chance.”

“But you didn’t.” Her hand reaches out for his cheek, cupping it as she turns him to face her. “Instead you told him off without hurting him—and that Blake, that’s so much more powerful. Everyone can be violent, not everyone can be mature.”

“I want him out of your life, Gwen. Out of _ours_.”

“He will be, he _is_.” She promises. “I don’t want anything to do with him anymore, Blake. I caved that night because he was something familiar and I was drowning in uncertainty. The thought of running back to him never even crossed my mind.”

He takes a deep breath and releases it slowly. “Nothing he said got to you? He didn’t change your mind on things, make you second guess…”

She sits up more so she’s on his face level. “None of it got to me.”

“I just don’t want you to have any doubts about us—not anymore.” He says again, needing a little bit more reassuring.

“I don’t have any doubts about us. Didn’t have them before we ran into him, don’t have them now.” She affirms.

She nuzzles her nose against his face, sliding her hand up to his face as she peppers his cheek with soft, but deliberate kisses. She feels him relax into her touch, his arm holding on to her as if she’d float away otherwise.

“This is what I want...being happy...” She continues in between kisses. She pulls away from his cheek so she can kiss him deeply, only retreating long enough to whisper against his still puffy lips. “With you.”

It’s the last thing he lets her say before taking her by the waist and pushing her back against the mattress. With only her bra shielding her from him, she can’t hide the way her chest already violently rises and falls. He moves on top of her just before getting rid of her underwear as she once again finds herself naked in this bed with him.

She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Taking off his own boxers, his hands move back to her body, sliding painfully slow along her sides until he reaches her hips. Holding her steady.

“Blake.” She moans prior to him even really touching her, but she’s too far gone to be embarrassed about anything when he looks at her like _that_.

He takes her by surprise when he dips his head and takes one of her erect nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hard nub before tugging on it with his teeth. She gasps and bucks into his touch, his larger frame pushing her back onto the mattress.

She feels like moving away from his teasing, but simultaneously can’t imagine willingly putting a stop to the pleasure he’s providing her. Her breathing is ragged already and her hand desperately grabs the back of his head as he licks and sucks at her chest.

“Please don’t make me wait.” She begs in a whisper. “Not now, not after…”

She couldn’t even finish her sentence as he starts to gently push his way inside of her. She gasps loudly, her back arching as he fills her.

“Fuck, yeah.” Blake grunts in her ear as he stills, waiting for her to accommodate.

After bucking her hips up to him, indicating that she’s ready, his thrusts and grinds get so deliberate she can barely keep it together long enough for it to count. Her moans and whimpers fill the hotel room as his gentle touches on her face and kisses in between her cries, help her focus on something else besides the blinding pleasure he creates between her thighs.

“I’m not gonna last long.” She whimpers as she feels her thighs shaking, her hand grabbing a fistful of the comforter as he continues to draw a string of moans from her.

“You don’t have to.” He whispers against her ear, right before nibbling on her lobe. “Come for me.”

Her head falls back as she holds onto his biceps for dear life, closing her eyes as her orgasm ripples through her. She’s upset she missed the moment he let himself fall apart, her eyes still closed when he comes down.

She’s surprised to feel the gentle brush of his lips against hers, her eyes opening slowly as he kisses her through her aftershocks.

“I love you so much, _Blakey_.” She says softly, when her lungs allow her to breathe again.

He chuckles before shushing her with two fingers over her mouth, pretending to be back to hating the nickname. She nibbles at his fingers in defiance until he lowers them.

“I love you too, baby.”


	22. Chapter 22

“Are you sure about this?”

She watches as he put his last remaining things in his bag, sitting on the white sheets of their hotel room bed. His hair looks a bit dishevelled, but overall he looks rested—less exhausted.

She’s only gotten three days with him here, but they’ve been everything she’d hoped for and more. He’d gotten to meet her best friend and they got to spend a few days getting to know each other all over again, without the interruption of real life calling. It’s been perfect.

“Yeah.” She whispers softly, the surrealness of the situation a heavy fog around her. “I just have to take care of some things here first before I can run off with you to another state.”

Blake smiles as she speaks the words out loud. “But you’re sure about moving in?”

She walks over to where Blake’s sitting on the bed, putting both her hands on his shoulders as she waits for him to meet her eyes. “I want to move back in with you.” She repeats. “I never wanted to leave in the first place, but back then we weren’t ready—we are now.”

He bites his lip before taking her hands into his.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to ask you to come back.”

“You didn’t want to push, I get that.”

He nods. “Everytime you mentioned house hunting, I wanted to tell you to look no further, that you already had a home in LA waiting for you.”

She feels herself getting emotional at his words and swallows loudly. Blake takes notice of her change in demeanour and grins before tugging at her hands, causing her to damn near stumble into his lap.

She chuckles. “Blake Shelton, you need to finish packing and not let yourself get distracted.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” He asks playfully. “Besides, I _am_ done packing. Now I want to get distracted by having this cute blonde on my lap.”

Her hand flies to his arm, holding herself steady as he holds her against him. Despite the hassle of moving to another state, she’s not too stressed. Maybe it’s because most things are already taken care of and the essentials are covered. She also thinks that the man holding her right now is just very good at taking away her worries.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something else.” Blake offers softly.

She raises her eyebrows, leaning back into his chest so she can look up at him. “About what?”

“Moving.”

“I am moving, I thought we’d established that.” She smiles teasingly.

“About us _both_ moving.”

She’s familiar with how Blake can sometimes get a little vague when he’s nervous, but this time the anticipation is killing her.

“Blake, oh my god, you need to get the words out cause I’m too confused.”

He chuckles as he looks down, waiting a few seconds to meet her eyes again.

“I want us to look for another place in LA. There’s no rush and we’ll get you settled at my…. _our_ place first, but I feel like we should get a place that’s ours from the beginning—somewhere where we have no memories of _not_ living together.”

Her breath hitches and her hand on his arm tightens involuntary. She can’t do anything but to look at him with a shocked expression on her face, trying to decipher if she heard him right.

“You…. you mean that?”

He grins widely. “Yeah, I want us to find a house together. I want to pick out furniture with you and build your dream place. I want the frustrations of looking for something perfect and the happiness that comes with finding it. I want to make new memories in a place that hasn’t belonged to either one of us before.”

She brings a hand up to her mouth, muffling a sob. She shakes her head before throwing her arms around his neck and clinging to him as if her life depends on it.

“Yes!” She murmurs against his neck, sniffling still. “Yes, I want that. All of it.”

She can’t see his expression, but the way his hand tightens on her back and his own breathing gets heavier, she’s sure he’s feeling emotional too. This is something they probably both gave up on having this late in their lives. She already felt beyond blessed to have the love of her life come back and finally being able to make it work. Never in her wildest dreams did she think she’d still be entering new chapters at the age of 45.

After a long, shaky exhale from his part, he pulls back to gauge her reaction. “You’re not just saying yes because you feel pressured, right? I mean, what I just said....it didn’t scare the shit out of you?”

She shakes her head, licking her lips as her mouth suddenly runs dry. She shifts on top of him so she’s now straddling his lap, making it easier to maintain eye contact.

“I was only scared back when it wasn’t right. I was scared to go all in just in case we’d explode and both were forced to pick up the pieces alone.” Her eyes light up then. “But there’s nothing I’m more sure about than you and I. It doesn’t get any better than this, does it?”

“God, no.” He answers, leaning in as he kisses her softly. As hard as she tries to concentrate on kissing him back, her body has a life of its own completely.

After the third giggle against his lips, Blake pulls away, chuckling. “You better be giggling out of excitement, not because of my horrible kissing abilities.”

Resting her forehead against his, she lets out a throaty laugh. “You should know by now that I’m very impressed with your kissing abilities.”

He smiles. “Just excited then.”

“Excited about everything. I’m excited to move in with you at your old place for the time being, I’m excited to be closer to Behati again, the prospect of us finding a new place is just…. I can’t believe it.”

“I still kind of can’t believe you said yes.” He admits shyly.

“I wish you wouldn’t feel like that.” A sad twinkle makes its way to her eyes.

His hand moves up to her cheek, smiling as she leans into his touch. “I’m always going to feel a hint of surprise at being the one who gets loved by you.”

She bites her lip hard, trying not to cry. “How could I not love you?”

He shakes his head before pulling her closer to him, her lips almost touching his.

“Please don’t ever figure that out.”

Even though she hates seeing him this insecure, his boyish grin and soft voice are on another level endearing. Knowing about what he’s been through and their turbulent past, she can’t blame him for feeling like this is almost too good to be true—she’ll just have to show him through action that this is his reality now, for good.

Right as she’s about to lean in for another kiss, her eyes lock with the clock on the nightstand, causing her to jump.

“Oh god Blake, you need to get going or you’ll miss your flight.”

“Who cares.” Blake tries nonchalantly as he pulls her back onto his lip, but she doesn’t waver.

“Uh-uh.” She says sternly, laughing as he tightens his grip on her hips, really not wanting to let her go. “We need to get you to the airport. I’ll feel so bad if I’m the reason you miss your flight.”

“ _Gwen_ ….” He all but whines.

She stands up, reaching her hands out for him to grab as she pulls him off the bed. “The sooner you’re out of here, the sooner I can get the final things ready to leave.”

He picks up his bag from the bed, swinging it over his shoulder as he gestures towards the door. She smiles at his chivalry as she opens the door, making sure to grab the hotel key from the table before exiting.

“Just one more week.” He says softly as they approach the elevator.

She smiles, her body warming up at the thought of not having to leave him again soon. “One more week until I’m all yours forever.”

His arm slides across her back, holding her as close to him as possible.

“You already are mine forever.”

*

She wasn’t joking when she said she’d spent this remaining time in New York taking care of business. Not only did she have to come into the office more often, the upcoming winter hysteria not a myth unfortunately, and all the while she had to pack up her stuff at Lizzy’s, look for an affordable change in phone provider and call her bank. Honestly, she’s surprised she’s still standing when Blake calls her later that night.

“Blake, oh my god, I’m so sorry; I know I promised I’d call.”

“Hey don’t apologize, I know you’re busy.”

She huffs at that in response, letting herself sink into Lizzy’s couch. The delicious smell of food that’s coming from the kitchen where her friend is cooking, makes her smile.

“It’s been crazy, baby.” She sighs, feeling happy she’s finally getting to talk to him again over the phone since he left yesterday. “It’s like that weekend away from everything happened at the busiest time and now I came back to a ton of new things on the agenda.”

“Tell me about some of it.” Blake urges.

She loves how he’s trying to learn more about her life and what she does for a living—even if it’s so far removed from what he does or knows about. She got to show him some of the stuff she’s working on when he came over to her office and she sends him pictures over text every now and then, laughing at the responses she gets from him; cute but also incredibly clueless.

“There were a bunch of reports that had to be written, designs I had to sign off on, and then I’m not even mentioning the amount of stuff I still have to do for this move.”

“Can I help you with anything?”

She smiles softly, not used to not having to do it all alone anymore.

“Not really. I have to change providers, change my address again on pretty much _everything_ —that’s actually been the fun part though.” She admits giggly.

Blake chuckles at that too. “I’m sorry it’s coming at you all at once.”

She shrugs. “It’s worth it. I was thinking about something though…”

“What?” Blake asks curiously.

“What if I sell my car? I mean, you have one in LA and to register mine in another state takes a bunch of paperwork. Besides, since we’ve talked about finding another place together, I’m guessing we could use that money.”

“Gwen, no. You don’t have to do that…”

“I know…” She says softly, the idea sounding maybe a bit drastic but she’s thought it through. “But I want to. I just have so much left to do and wasting my time on car registration just doesn’t seem worth it.”

From the sounds of it, Blake’s in the studio as he’s calling her, hearing him gently shutting the door. “Baby, how is that going to work?”

“What do you mean?” She asks genuinely surprised.

“I mean that you and I have very different jobs, we’re gonna have to be at different places at the same time—and this isn’t New York, you don’t get anywhere here without a car.”

She sighs deeply, feeling herself getting a little frustrated as he gives her reasons as to why this is not a good idea.

“Blake…”

“You would hate it, Gwen. You hate having to be depended on anyone.”

Despite him making numeral good points, she feels a bit saddened. Maybe it’s all the stress she’s under that’s making her this irritable; she only feels worse about herself when she starts getting teary-eyed.

“Hey baby, listen to me.” Blake starts gently, obviously sensing her mood shift. “I get that you’re overwhelmed with everything and you just want to take something off your plate—I get that.”

She exhales shakily, looking up at the ceiling to prevent her tears from escaping. “It just all feels so real now, you know? And I just want to enjoy it, but instead work is crazy and it just stresses me out. I’m sorry, I know that’s probably not what you want to hear.”

“It _is_ what I want to hear.” He retorts gently. “I want to hear it because it’s the truth. I want you to be honest with me, Gwen.”

“I can do some of it while I’m there with you, but there’s just some stuff I need to do _before_ , so my timeframe is limited. I don’t know, what if I can’t do it? What if it’s just all too much? Oh my god, Blake, I’m gonna screw things up at work and they’re all gonna question if I can handle things, I just— “

“Gwen, baby…” He cuts her off during her panicked ramble. “Just breathe for a second. It’s not worth working yourself up in a panic over.”

She takes a few deep breathes at his prompting, feeling the tightening in her chest get slightly less with each breath.

“I just wanna be there with you.” She whispers.

“You will be soon. You just do what you can right now and I’ll help you with what’s left to do when you get here. Just don’t get rid of your car just yet, you’ll regret it.”

She’s not one-hundredth percent convinced, but she’s going to be busy regardless, having one more thing on her plate won’t make much of a difference. With a bit of reluctance, she gives in to his suggestion.

“Fine, I won’t do it.”

He laughs. “Your conviction is overwhelming.”

“I just need to relax, I’ll be fine. Lizzy is almost done cooking, so I’ll get myself a glass of wine, run myself a bath later...”

“Now, you can’t go and put these images in my head, Gwen.” He says lowly.

She bites her lip, her anxiety now replaced with a heat only he can bring alive within her. “We should make sure our new place has a bath as well.”

He hums. “I don’t know, we’ve had some fun in the shower as well.”

“You’ve never been naughty with someone in a bathtub before?” She asks fake-shocked, teasing him.

“I can’t say I have.”

The thought only excites her more, but she keeps her voice in check as she speaks. “I can’t wait to be the one to change that for you someday.”

He grunts and she laughs, her eyes looking up towards the kitchen where Lizzy waves for her, indicating dinner is ready.

“I gotta go now, I’ll text you later tonight, okay?”

“Enjoy dinner, darling.”

She breathes out, silently thanking God for giving her this man to love and behold.

“Love you.”


	23. Chapter 23

It’s 4:30 am and pitch black in the apartment, except for a small light coming from the kitchen area. She stumbles down the rest of the stairs as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake up their guest. Blake’s shirt hangs loosely around her body as she buttons it up enough to be decent before entering the dinner room. She finds Blake sitting at the kitchen table looking slightly dishevelled as his eyes are focused on the piece of paper in front of him, chewing on the top of the pen in his right hand.

“What are you doing?” She asks tiredly, brushing her bed-hair out of her face as she slides an arm over his shoulder. She raises her eyebrow expectantly as she waits for an answer.

He drops the pen and turns towards her, gesturing her to sit on the chair next to him. “Why are you up? I didn’t wake you, did I?”

She shakes her head as she suppresses a yawn. “Not deliberately, but I can always tell when you’re not in bed with me anymore.”

He smiles softly. “I’m sorry.”

She almost lets herself get lost in his smile, momentarily distracting her from whatever has him sitting at the kitchen table in the early hours of the morning.

“Why are you not in bed, Blake?”

“I’m writing.” He replies softly. “Trying to, at least.”

“Now?” She asks, confused.

He nods, but takes his time answering. She knows how he can get when it comes to his craft and she also knows that the Blake who doesn’t talk about his feelings is still in there somewhere. She gives him the time he needs to fight that urge, before he opens up to her.

“Sometimes when Dusty’s here, I get the sudden need to write.” He admits.

She thinks of the little girl asleep upstairs, which caused her to reluctantly walk down the stairs, afraid she might wake her up.

“You being here now too, and the way you were with her all day…. I had too much inspiration to write suddenly and I knew I’d wake you if I stayed in bed. Ignoring that writers itch gets me restless.” He adds with a shy smile.

She shifts her chair closer to him and leans against his arm, biting her lip. She doesn’t want to push, but she also is beyond curious to see what he wrote. Her eyes wander to the page in front of him discreetly, her head still pressed against his upper arm, before he chuckles and blocks her view.

“Hey, no peeking.” He chuckles, bringing her head up so he can plant a soft kiss on her lips.

“ _Blake_.” She breathes when he pulls back. “I wanna see what you’ve been working on.”

“Why don’t you help?”

“Help you write?” She asks, with a quick shake of her head. “Blake, no, I don’t write.”

“You don’t have to.” He says quickly, causing her to look even more confused. “You can just talk to me.”

She sits back, clearly intrigued but also suddenly nervous. “Talk about what?”

He seems to ponder over something for a little bit, before pushing the piece of paper towards her. He looks nervous but ready as he nods for her to look, giving her the consent to look at some of his most personal thoughts.

Despite it being what she wants, she’s suddenly a bit nervous to read his words; remembering how the last time went.

Her small fingers pick up the sheet, squinting her eyes a little as she tries to read the words underneath the dim kitchen light. Her breath hitches at some of the words, but for the opposite reason than last time. She smiles and looks up at him after the first few lines, her brain memorizing every detail he’d written down.

“Blake…. this is beautiful.” She says in between reading and taking the time to make eye-contact with him, making sure she knows how tuned in she is.

“It’s not just about parenthood or parental feelings.” Blake says after a bit of silence. “It’s also about finally feeling at ease with where I am in life. It’s like nothing could change and I’d still be perfectly fine with how life is now.”

She lowers the paper back onto the table and wipes at some of the moisture underneath her eyes. “I feel the same way.”

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.” He says apologetically, lifting her hand up to his mouth as he places a soft kiss on the skin there.

“They’re happy tears.” She clarifies. “Like, oh my god Blake! I’m 45, about to turn 46, and I’m only now feeling genuinely happy in love—content. I always thought I needed a bunch of things to happen first, before I could possibly feel like this, but this is enough.”

Something about the soft expression on his face becomes a bit cloudier and for a moment she’s afraid she said something wrong, but his words prove the opposite.

“I’m afraid to believe this is real sometimes.” He breathes softly, almost too softly for her to hear.

“It’s real.” She affirms.

She says the words, but Blake’s reaction is minimal. She knows the feeling; she has spent many nights convincing herself that this couldn’t possibly be real, this type of happiness had always been foreign to her and it’s almost easier to expect the hammer to drop any minute. After being here with Blake for nearly a month, she’d gotten pretty good at letting that train of thought go, but with Dusty in the guest room and Gwen permanently moved in, these thoughts have managed to find its way back into Blake’s head.

Her hand reaches for his as she pulls it towards her chest, his hand fitting perfectly in the space that’s uncovered as she hadn’t buttoned it up that far. She doesn’t stop moving his hand until it lays gently over her heart.

“Here, feel.” She whispers. “I’m here. It’s real.”

She holds her breath as she lets his hand go, feeling the way he keeps it there by himself. His finger traces the skin of her chest while never moving his hand, his eyes following the simple movement. His face relaxes as he gently nods to himself, reassuring with his hand that she’s really here. The loud beating of her heart should suffice as enough reassurance that her feelings for him are also getting no less.

After minutes, he moves his hand away from her chest and slides it up to the crook of her neck, his palm covering her pulse point before his fingers tangle into her hair. He pulls her closer, their foreheads almost touching.

“I want to make love to you right now.” He breathes.

She shakes her head playfully, her palms now flat on his chest, but when he opens his eyes there’s no hint of amusement to be found there.

“What about your writing?” She whispers into the space between them, her voice making it sound more like a statement than a question.

“I can continue that later.” He disregards quickly, pulling them both up and off their chairs.

“But Dusty— “

“—She’s sound asleep. Besides, we’ll be quiet.”

He flashes her a grin and it really is that easy.

*

Later that day, she’s surprised she’s still standing. Between getting up at such an ungodly hour to find Blake writing in the kitchen and then going back to bed only to mess up the sheets for an hour, she feels a bit lightheaded when she’s back in the kitchen—this time at daylight—to get Dusty something to drink.

She loves Behati for recognizing that it would be a nice idea to let them _both_ babysit, now they’re in a place in their relationship where everything else is stable. It’s been a satisfying thing to get to spend some more time with the girl, being closer to Adam and Behati something she won’t take for granted again. It’s crazy how the people she met whilst being a teenager still proof to be the right fit for her two decades later.

Off in thought, she’s a bit startled when she hears loud laughter coming from the living room. Turning around with the glass of apple juice in one hand, she watches Dusty in a fit of giggles trying to ‘fight’ Blake off as he apparently started a tickle war. She watches for a moment, not daring to interrupt; seeing Blake in this way melting her heart quicker than ice on the hottest day.

“Gwen!” Blake yells cheerfully as he sees her standing in the doorway. “Why don’t you tell Dusty here that I never lose a tickle war, ever.”

She smirks before closing some of the distance. “I don’t know, Blake…. Dusty looks pretty strong.”

The five-year old smiles widely, squirming her way out of Blake’s playful grasp.

“Catch me if you can.”

She throws Blake an apologetic smile, knowing that chasing Dusty around in the apartment takes quite some energy, energy they both might be running a bit low on.

“You better get going, Blakey. She’s winning already.”

He shakes his head at her, pretending to be annoyed as she throws him under the bus, but she knows he’s secretly loving every second of this. It’s about ten minutes later when the chaos has somewhat died down and Dusty is finally calm enough to drink something.

It’s another hour or so before Behati is there to pick her daughter up, smiling widely as Dusty tells her all about her time with them. Gwen finds herself blushing when the young girl starts rambling about how Gwen had spent the whole afternoon yesterday teaching her how to draw dresses. It seemed like such a small thing when they did it, she had no idea it was something that left such a mark on the girl.

They say their goodbyes a few minutes later, the apartment feeling weirdly quiet when it’s just the two of them again. Looking over at Blake, she realizes for the first time that day how tired he looks.

“You really should’ve slept some more last night.” She says softly, wrapping her arms around his waist as she rests her chin on his chest.

“And miss out on last night? Don’t think so…”

His naughty grin causes her to laugh, but she brings it back quickly. “I’m serious, Blake. I know you, you’re a night person but you also have a habit of taking it too far…”

He raises his eyebrow. “I do…?” He smirks.

“You do.” She affirms. “You don’t remember how you’d go nights without sleeping to make songs and then crash on my lap during _daytime_ television.”

He laughs loud and inhibited at that.

He throws his hands up in surrender. “OK, you might have a point there.”

She smirks. “I know I do.”

The moment is interrupted by her phone going off and she sighs dramatically against his chest.

“You’re not gonna get that.”

She keeps herself pressed against him, pouting. “Well look at that, they already gave up.”

He chuckles as he realizes the buzzing of her phone has indeed stopped already and leans down to capture her lips in a deep kiss. Her arms move from being wrapped around his waist to wrapping them around his neck. She tilts her head a little, giving him better access as he parts her lips with his tongue once more.

Just as they’re about to take it a step further, her phone starts ringing again.

This time, it’s Blake’s turn to sigh against her lips. “Just take the goddamn call.”

She giggles before retreating from him, pointing her finger at him as she walks towards the sound of her phone. “Hold that thought, Blakey.”

The moment she picks up her whole body stiffens. Something about the tone of voice reaching her from the other end of the line tells her everything she needs to know. Blake seems to realize something’s wrong immediately as he walks over to her in a few large strides, his worried features looking down at her intensely.

She can’t focus on anything but her own heartbeat and her mother’s voice. When she lowers her phone from her ear, she knows it’s time to face Blake, but she doesn’t know what to say, or feel.

“Gwen, baby, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

He was looking at her so genuinely worried she tries not to cower from it. She bites her lip as she tries to make sense of all the raging feelings inside of her, trying to drown her, as she forces the words over her lips.

“That was my mom.” She whispers, meeting Blake’s gaze. “My dad died.”

Blake’s face falls for a moment before confusion etches its way onto his features. She doesn’t blame him for not knowing what to feel about it, he probably doesn’t even know how _she_ feels about it.

She decides she doesn’t care right then and there.

“We never spoke.” She says next, emotionless. “I’m not sad about losing someone I never had.”

Blake falters slightly. “ _Gwen..._ ”

“I’m alright, Blake.”

She drops her phone back on the dinner table and approaches him slowly, not wanting this conversation to get any further and so she nestles herself back in the space Blake has reserved for her. Her arms coming around his neck again.

She can sense the hesitance and reluctance in him as he doesn’t feel good about letting her steer the conversation away from the obvious.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She says in response to his demeanour.

He sighs before wrapping his own arms around her back. “I think you should.”

She rolls her eyes, but stays pressed against him. The proximity both wanted and resented in this moment.

“What is there to say, Blake? He wasn’t a good man, all he ever taught me about was pain and violence. Honestly, the world is probably a better place without him in it.”

She watches Blake bite his lip at her harsh words. “He’s still your dad.”

“On paper.”

“Gwen— “

“Blake, I’m begging you.” She pleads with him then, her hands pressing against his chest as if she’s getting ready to leave his embrace. “Please just drop it.”

Despite what he feels is right, he honours her wish and drops the subject completely. He’d gone as far as letting her kiss him passionately, not allowing it to go all the way, but far enough to end up on the couch. Snuggling up against him as the television provided the only sounds in the room, almost made it feel like a regular Sunday afternoon.

She wasn’t going to give today’s news too much thought. Not only did he not deserve it, she was finally happy. She’s got what she always wanted, with the man she trusts and loves. Poisoning her mind with grief for a person who gave her nothing but pain while being alive doesn’t just seem like a horrible idea—it’s damn near laughable.

It’s not until later that night that her tough exterior cracks.

Despite having scolded Blake for leaving the bed in the middle of the night, she finds herself doing the same as she carefully adjusts the covers back over his still sleeping frame. The bathroom is the furthest she gets before her protection shatters. The tiles are cold against her naked legs as she brings her knees to her chest, trying desperately to muffle her sobs.

She apparently did a crappy job at muffling the sounds coming out of her mouth, as it hasn’t even been ten minutes before the bathroom door creaks open and she doesn’t have to look up from the ground to know Blake’s gonna sit down next to her.

His shoulders bumps against hers as he puts his arm around her and nudges her softly, but deliberately enough for her to lean against him. The moment he starts caressing her arm and kisses the top of her head, the hurt she feels about the one person she swore never to cry over again, comes spilling out.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs against her hair, placing another kiss there.

She cries like one does when your heart breaks in heaving waves of a disturbing reality. It’s like a tidal wave of a bunch of different emotions keep her under, making it harder to breath some air back into her lungs. After the third time she nearly chokes on her own breath, Blake speaks again.

“Sit up a little bit more, Gwen.” He instructs gently, lifting her head up from his shoulder.

She tries to keep herself upright like he told her to, but her body seems to want to be as close to the ground as possible. She’s grateful when Blake’s hand cups her cheek, giving her comfort while also keeping her head up, literally.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, embarrassed about not being able to keep it together.

He ignores her apology completely, instead caresses her cheek with a gentle hand. “Can you breathe in for me, sweetheart?”

She tries to do what he says, but her chest just constricts so painfully she lets it go immediately.

“I—I can’t.”

“You can.” He says gently, but there’s a hint of forcefulness behind his voice.

She tries again, this time with a little bit more success. It might not be much, but she feels her breathing steady a bit more as she finds the room to inhale some more.

“There you go; deep breathes.”

Despite her tears slowly getting less, the pain in her chest is still raw—like a wound that had just opened. She feels the need to cling onto something for support as she’s in the process of having all her defences getting washed away. Her hand reaches out for Blake’s shirt as she balls the fabric up in her fist. The extension of her arm bringing attention to her shaking.

She’s grateful Blake doesn’t draw any attention to it, considering he must take notice. She’s grateful he just keeps holding her without words, both knowing that this is undoubtedly the most unguarded and vulnerable she’s ever been with another human being.

“Blake?” She whimpers softly after a few minutes.

“Yeah, baby?” He replies, matching her soft voice.

She’s not even sure why she just called out for him; maybe it’s because she needs to hear _something_ to assure her she’s not alone, or maybe her feelings are reluctantly trying to find their way out.

“I….”, she attempts at speaking, but the words get stuck in her throat immediately. His gentle rubbing on her arm coaxes another try out of her. “I don’t miss him, I…. _I hate him.”_

Blake stays quiet, the only indication he’s even heard her comes in the form of a simple nod. She takes that as her cue to continue.

“I always thought I’d get the chance to tell him someday.” She whispers, looking at the ground. “Get it off my chest. Make it _his_ problem.”

“You weren’t ready.” Blake says softly, understanding.

She shakes her head, another wave of tears falling down her face. “It’s not that.” She chokes.

His thumb swipes along her chin, his nose nuzzling the side of her face. “Than what, sweetheart?”

“I didn’t want to burden him with it.”

Her admission makes her cry. It’s an ability only her father has; to make her feel truly weak.

“I didn’t want him to know how I felt cause I didn’t want to hurt him.” She says a bit more forceful now, ignoring her tears. “Can you believe that? I wanted to spare _him_ pain. How weak does that make me?”

“That doesn’t make you weak at all, Gwen. If anything, that just makes you even more beautiful.”

She shakes her head at his statement, deciding to bite her tongue.

“You know what I also think?” Blake asks carefully, waiting for her to look up at him questioningly. “I don’t think you hate him. I think you wanted to spare him that burden because you love him. Despite everything.”

“Don’t say that.” She whispers.

He flinches at her vulnerability and she feels it in the way he holds her. Suddenly terrified he’ll move away from her, she grabs onto him tighter, looking up at him fearfully.

“Shhhh, hey it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

She realizes her mistake. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“I should hate him.” She admits finally.

She doesn’t need him to say anything to know that he disagrees. She also doesn’t need a verbal confirmation to know that Blake hates him enough for the both of them.

“You don’t have to do anything.” Blake answers after a brief pause. “You had to come to terms with someone who was supposed to love you hurting you in that way. Nothing about that is normal or conventional, you can’t expect your feelings to be.”

“Right before moving in with you again….” She mumbles softly, forcing herself to keep going. “I thought about going to see him. Just to get that final weight off me, start with a clean slate...”

She smiles weakly up at him, her lips dry.

“I wish you would’ve gotten the chance.” He says honestly, now speaking directly against her ear. “You don’t need it to start over, though.”

“I feel like I do.”

He shifts a little, making sure to keep her close as he does. She sniffs as he rearranges them a bit, now back to sitting shoulder to shoulder. “Can I tell you something?”

She nods. “Yeah, yes.”

“That day I left you…” She stiffens immediately against him, but he soothes her with his gentle hand until she’s able to relax against him again. “I’d bought you a ring two months prior to that day.”

In her grief-stricken state, it takes her a little longer to process what he’s saying, but when it clicks she can’t help but gasp.

“I didn’t have the guts to ask you when I first bought it, besides I wanted to plan out the perfect date and time. I found out about my illness a few weeks later and well, the rest is history.”

“Blake…” She whispers.

“Let me finish.” He orders softly, gently.

She falls quiet once more. “I’m telling you this because despite your feelings towards your dad, and me not knowing the extent of things at the time, I pondered over the idea to look him up behind your back and ask for his permission to ask your hand in marriage—and maybe get you two on the same page so he could be there when we made it official.”

His words both heal and break her at the same time, her body shaking against his again as she falls victim to her tears.

“I know nothing about clean slates, Gwen—hell, I haven’t ever been able to get rid of the ring I got for you. But I do know one thing; my slate is still dirty, my history is still messy, but I’m happy. I’m happy despite everything I never got to change. I did something better…”

“What?” She hiccups.

“I got to grow.”

She leans her overly exhausted body against him, sniffing. “And I don’t need _him_ for that.”

“Exactly. You grow from it once you're ready or when you're forced to. With or without closure.” He says softly, holding her exhausted frame against him.

“You were gonna propose.” She states, like it just finally connected in her brain.

He nods awkwardly.

“Yeah, I was.” He whispers lowly.

"I wish you would’ve.”

Maybe it’s not the right thing to say, but she’s too tired, too broken to care. It’s what her heart feels, it’s the one feeling she can identify and label.

She’s relieved when he seems unfazed by her response.

“Just give it time.”

She closes her eyes, her heart heavy with sadness but lighter with hope. The more she thinks about, the more Blake’s intent becomes clear. The way a newfound hopefulness creeps into her body, forcing its way through all the darkness harvesting in her chest, is something truly mindblowing. He didn’t give her a time, he didn’t even give her an articulate answer, but he gave her enough. He gave her a light to focus on throughout all the darkness that’s clouding her vision.

She loves him.

“Baby…” Blake says carefully, nudging her again. “How about we clean you up a bit and get you back in bed. You need some rest.”

She’s not excited about the prospect of having to move, but she nods regardless, realizing he’s right. Besides, her joints are killing her from the hard bathroom tiles she’s been sitting on for what feels like hours.

The way he gently wipes her face with a bath clod, the cold water giving her instant relief against the tightness of her cheekbones, and offers her some water to take with her to the bedroom to make sure she stays hydrated, only solidifies what she already knows;

She’s gonna give him all the time he needs.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took a while, but hopefully this lengthy update will make up for it. I can't believe this story is almost coming to an end, but thank you guys for continuing to read and shower me with ideas and support. It really means the world!

She can tell by the way his body leaned against the couch cushions that he has his eyes closed and she takes advantage of the moment to observe him. She’s torn between wanting to get his attention or watch him be this peaceful for a bit longer. Last week's activities are weighing heavy on her mind and she can’t seem to find her rest no matter how hard she tries.

“Are you gonna come here or are ya gonna keep standing there?” Blake murmurs all the sudden, a small smirk on his lips, his eyes still closed.

She walks over to him slowly, not stopping until she’s in front of him, her legs against his knees. His eyes open and his deep blue’s look at her so genuinely she finds herself tearing up. He reaches his hands out for her and when she takes them he takes the opportunity to pull her next to him.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks softly, speaking against the side of her head.

She swallows roughly. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Why the hell are you sorry, Gwen?”

She knew it would happen, but she still whisks away the tears that fall angrily, mad at herself for many reasons. She’s frustrated and just for once wishes something could come easy to her—to them.

“The chance this will happen for us…. it’s small.” She whispers.

“That’s not what the doctor said, Gwen.”

_“I wanna prescribe you Clomid. It triggers your ovaries to make eggs and release them, it’s just a way to get the process started. I know it feels hopeless after having tried for so long, but this has a real chance of working, Miss.”_

_“And if it doesn’t?”_

_“Majority of the women respond to this drug incredibly positive; even pregnancy within three treatment cycles is possible.” The doctor started hopeful, smiling softly. “If things don’t work out regardless, I could redirect you to a fertility specialist who can go over additional treatments with you. I have to inform you that your age will play a part in the options though; IVF doesn’t have the highest success rate over forty—these drugs are your best shot, and it’s a hopeful one.”_

“The doctor was being polite.” She retorts, oblivious to Blake’s disappointed stare.

He voices his discomfort precisely. “Gwen, let’s…. can we just…. the doctor said not to lose hope, there’s still a chance—that’s all that matters.”

She wants to give Blake what he needs—be hopeful for him—but she can’t help but grow tired at the feeling she must work overtime to get anything come her way. As much as Blake deserves a different attitude from her, especially considering how he’s putting it all on the line once more too, she can’t lose the image of a wishing well with hundreds of pennies at the bottom, all from hopeless souls who said a heartfelt prayer, most likely met with a lighter wallet and no step further to their goal.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers before leaving his side on the couch, avoiding his hand as he tries to pull her back.

“Gwen…” He calls out when he realizes she’s too far out of reach already.

“I just need some air.” She explains as she puts on her shoes, her breathing heavy.

“OK, then I’ll come with you.”

“ _Blake_ …” She says softly, turning to face him. Blake looks up at her, waiting for her to continue before closing the distance and grabbing his own shoes, ignoring the look on her face that tells her he’s disrupting her plan.

She presses her lips together, willing herself to get it together enough to have a conversation with him.

“It’s different for you…” She says then, bracing herself for some protest.

“How the hell is it different, Gwen? We both want this— “

“—You’re not the problem here, Blake. _I am._ That’s why it’s different.”

He looks at her a bit dumfounded, before walking towards her as he places both hands on her hips, holding her steady in case she tries to walk away from him again.

“Look at me.”

She shakes her head, looking down. “Blake, let’s not…”

“Look at me.” He interjects, nudging her sides a little. He waits until she reluctantly looks up and faces him, being met with the gentlest look in his eyes. “This is no one’s fault, Gwen. You can’t think of it that way, it’s not healthy, let alone fair to yourself.”

“But it’s true.” She murmurs, her eyes tearing up. “It is on me, they tested you and you’re fine. If it weren’t for me, if you weren’t tied down by me, you could...”

“…Stop.” Blake whispers, his eyes pleading with her. “I don’t want anyone else and I’m not gonna change my mind because having children isn’t coming easy to us. I’ve told you before, having a child with you would mean everything to me but I’m content with the way things are as well. If it doesn’t happen, I can live with that because I’m happy with the way things are. Are you?”

She nods but doesn’t possess the words to verbally answer him. She swallows roughly as his body still demands her eye contact.

“You aren’t, are you?” He asks painfully, his blue eyes now holding a hint of insecurity she hasn’t seen in a while.

His question snaps her out of her daze, working hard at finding the right words to get her out of this mess. “That’s not it. I’m so happy to be here with you...”

“But it’s not enough?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a mother, Blake. I’ve always wanted it with you. If you’re asking me if I can be happy with the thought of that never happening for us, then no—I can’t do that right now and I would love it if you wouldn’t ask that of me either.”

She watches his mouth opening and shutting without a sound coming out and she feels instant regret at the way the words had escaped her. Her heart begins to pound, wishing she could catch the words with her teeth and swallow them back down.

“Maybe you should finish your idea and get some fresh air.” He says calmly, letting go of her waist as he walks back towards the couch.

She thinks about calling after him, apologizing, but she thinks the damage is already done and the best thing for her now is to get some fresh air and get her bearings back, so she doesn’t make anything worse when she comes back.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Is all she says, waiting until he sits down and looks her way again.

“Yeah you did.”

She forces her gaze to the ceiling, willing the sting in her eyes to subside. “I feel so ready now, and….” She shakes her head, the words falling apart on her tongue, shredding themselves along her throat. “I don’t know how to flip the switch; I don’t know how to suddenly stop wanting it so much. How do I turn that off, Blake? How do I just stop?”

“You think I ever stopped wanting to have kids, Gwen?” He says through gritted teeth, the words sounding raw and painful.

“I don’t understand how you can be angry at me for wanting to give that to you.”

His jaw tenses underneath her gaze and his skin fills with pain; she realizes before he answers her that he’s not angry, he’s hurt.

“I’m not angry. I’m upset that you’re blaming yourself, I’m upset you’re not able to find any sort of silver lining here, how you’re only allowing yourself to think about the worst-case scenario.”

She’s sure he’s convincing himself that she won’t stay when this doesn’t work out, needing a child to complete the perfect picture, otherwise finding it to be ruined, but that’s not true and she can’t leave the house without at least making him see that.

He proves her point when he speaks up again. “You’ve been pushing me away ever since that doctor’s appointment, Gwen—It’s been a week and a half now. You’ve talked yourself into believing it won’t be worth it if things turn out to be impossible and I have a right to be upset about that.”

She walks over to where he’s seated on the couch, cupping his face in her palms, her thumbs smoothing along the skin underneath her fingertips. His eyes flicker shut at the gentle touch and her heart eases when he leans into her hands, despite the intensity of their conversation.

“That’s not true.” She whispers along his cheekbone, listening to how he inhales air into his lungs and exhales it heavily through his nose. “You’re wrong, you’re so wrong.”

He shakes his head, indicating he’s about to say something, but she shushes him. “I didn’t mean to push you away in these last few days, I’m sorry if that’s what I did. This thing we have, it’ll always be worth it to me, _always_. But Blake, I’ve been dreaming about motherhood ever since I was a little girl, hearing that there are complications in that regard… I can’t even tell you how sad that makes me. If it doesn’t happen, I just need time, time to be sad. Does that make sense?”

She sees him process her words, his eyes now looking into hers again.

“I love you.”

She smiles widely, placing a kiss on his lips as she’s still cupping his cheeks. “I love you too, Blake. More than you’ll ever know.”

“I will give you all the time you need, Gwen. And if it does happen, I’ll be the happiest person on the planet. Whatever happens, I’m here.”

Thankful he brought it back to her initial point, she lowers her head so it rests against his forehead, breathing in deeply before nodding.

“I know that. It’s part of why I love you so much.”

He will never be able to know the extent of her love for him, as he’s the gentle centre throughout all the storms she’s ever faced, despite having caused a few himself.

Blake looks her up and down, realizing she’s still wearing her shoes before smiling gently.  
“You still need to get some air?”

She shakes her head adamantly, letting herself fall onto the couch as well, snuggling further into him. “I’d rather stay like this.”

*

She leans into him further, her forehead coming to rest on his shoulder as she tries to look at the screen on his lap. His finger moves the mouse around multiple options, randomly looking up at her sometimes to read her expressions. She’s thought about this moment so many times, and now they’re here, it all seems a bit dreamy.

“That one’s awful.” She giggles, waiting as Blake clicks on more details. She’s willing to go along with him for a moment as he investigates further, but once they hit the ten-minute mark, she’s sure she’s reached her limit. “Baby, let’s move on to something that doesn’t make me want to claw my eyes out, okay?”

Blake laughs as he clicks the current house away, pulling her face up so he can place a soft kiss there, deepening it slightly until she taps on the screen of his laptop. “Focus, Blakey.”

He shakes his head. “Will that nickname ever die?”

“Absolutely not.”

He nods. “Thought so.”

She laughs and slaps his arm softly, leaning onto his shoulder once more.

“What about that one?” She asks excitedly as she points at another home that comes into view on the screen, waiting impatiently for Blake to click on more details.

Blake eyebrows raise as he shakes his head violently. “Yeah, no baby.”

They go back and forth for about two more hours, before they finally get distracted enough to put the laptop away, postponing the rest of their search. She bites her lip when she realizes Blake’s officially ready to dive into her without any distractions, waiting for the moment his lips crash on hers.

He follows her down, kissing along the middle of her chest, until his tongue dips into her belly button, causing her to gasp softly. He knows she wants him lower, needs him at her most sensitive area, but he denies her that pleasure for now, causing her to whimper.

“Blake, baby...” She moans, bucking up at him.

He just chuckles at her desperation, but she’s in no mood to be patient right now. Her fingers thread through his hair as she gives it gentle tug, making his eyes lock with hers momentarily. He seems to get the memo and either loses the last bit of control he owns or just feels bad for her, but the next time he lowers his gaze, his tongue is sliding through her folds.

“Fuck!” Her entire body jolts as he picks up his pace so suddenly, she’s left gripping the sheets beneath her in a desperate attempt to maintain some composure. He chuckles against her and the vibrations there cause her to get that much closer to the edge.

“Are you close, baby?”

She tries to answer him, but the way his tongue enters her again while his thumb moves tiny circle on top of her clit has her panting instead. She nods frantically, one hand flying to the back of his head. “Shit baby, I _’m gonna_ — “

Her body slumps back as she gives herself over to the feelings he’s creating inside her, her back arching as she comes. She feels Blake’s actions continuing as she moans out her satisfaction, pulling him up gently as the overstimulation gets to be too much.

He moves back up her body, kissing her deeply as she holds him close against her. Her knees fall open for him to settle in between and the rest of their clothes disappear quickly, her hand gripping onto his shoulders as she waits for him to move.

Her previous orgasm made the slide that much easier, letting her head fall back onto the pillow as she feels him push inside of her slowly. He adjusts slightly, his brow furrowed as it takes him some concentration to not take her immediately.

“You can move.” She says breathy, her voice weak.

“Fuck, you feel so damn good, Gwen.”

They establish a rhythm that satisfy both quickly, her moans growing louder as his pace quickens. His head lowers to the crook of her neck, marking the skin there before smoothing it over with his tongue. The bunch of difference sensations have her eyes rolling back into her head in no time, her nails digging into the skin of his back.

“Blake, please…” She begs, needing just a little bit more to finish.

“What do you want, baby?” He asks in between kisses. “Tell me what you want.”

She loves and hate when he gets like this; the way he talks to her is the hottest thing, but forcing her to form coherent sentences while making her feel like this, is also impossible. “Please fuck me, I need more.”

“I _am_ fucking you.” He reminds her, thrusting into her more forcefully.

 _“Harder._ ”

He grunts in his efforts to last longer, moving into her more intensely. It takes only a minute after that before she clenches tightly around him, gasping and moaning out his name like a prayer. She rides out her orgasm as he kisses her while his own arrives, falling apart on top of her.

It was quicker than what they usually do, but she needed every second of it like this. He takes a few minutes before rolling onto his back, extending his arm around her as she lays on her side, her head on his chest.

Laying here with him like this, makes her eyelids become heavier quickly, the fatigue catching up with her. The shuttering of her synapses lure her into sleepiness, the comfort of laying in Blake’s arms not missed on her. Before, she can close her eyes and officially drift off, Blake’s voice reaches her ears.

“Can we talk about something?”

Her eyes open instantly, her head looking up to meet his gaze. “Everytime you ask me that, something seems to be wrong...”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He soothes with a small smile. “I just wanted to talk about an idea I’ve had for a while.”

Her curiosity is peaked as she looks at him expectantly. “What idea?”

“I want you to come with me to have dinner with my mom.” He says calmly, his hand moving softly up and down her arm.

She looks up at him wide-eyed. “ _Blake._...” She stammers. “I haven’t seen her since... what would she think of me now?”

He frowns as he tries to decipher the meaning of her words.

“Gwen, she loved you— there’s no reason why she wouldn’t love you now.”

“A lot has happened.” She counters immediately.

“And none of which was your fault.”

She shakes her head, stunned. “I don’t know, Blake. Maybe you should just go alone first.”

“Look...” He starts softly, his voice lowering a bit. “In a lot of ways, I’ve been doing the same thing you have; I’ve been running from home and the people closest to me, to avoid the constant reminder of what I’d lost. I don’t see her that often anymore, and that’s the only reason I haven’t brought you to her sooner. But we’re going strong, we’re moved in for god’s sake. She knows about us being back together and I want her to be part of this again. I want to stop running from my life the way it used to be and I want the two women who mean the most to me to reconcile.”

Somewhere during his little speech she’d began to cry, but she’s not even bothered by the tears sticking to her cheeks anymore.

“I didn’t know.” She whispers, her hand holding onto his arm now. “I didn’t know you didn’t see your mom much anymore, Blake. You two used to be so close.”

“We’re still close— I talk to her all the time. I just stopped going over there much.”

“Did something else happen?” She asks cautiously.

He smiles softly before pressing a kiss against her temple, conforming what she already knows; there is more to this story.

“When I got sick and pushed you away....” Blake voice trails off, the memory obviously haunting him. “She wasn’t too fond of that move to say the least. I’m telling you Gwen, she loved you like one of her own.”

She’s not quite sure if she’s still breathing, Blake’s words feeling like both a gentle caress and a slap in the face. Knowing that Blake’s mom didn’t support his decision was both validating as it was heartbreaking. She knows how his choice affected him too, and she can’t imagine going through with that knowing he didn’t have the support of his mom. 

“Baby, please don’t cry.” Blake pleads gently as she realizes her cries have become more prominent and consistent. 

She snuggles into him more, sniffing a few times.

“I love you, Blake. I love you so much.”

She doesn’t have to see his face to know he’s smiling, enjoying the way his hands push her closer against him, revelling in his heat. 

“So is that a yes?”

She chuckles, still nervous but a lot more determined. “You better not leave my side.”

He laughs softly, nudging her. “I promise.”

She exhales deeply, her hand securely placed over his heart as she leans into him. 

“Then it’s a yes.”

*

 

He doesn’t let go of her hand as promised, but the raging nerves and insecurities still have a field day with her. Blake must notice her trembling hand in his and tries his best to smooth over whatever she’s envisioning in her head.

“Baby, you’ve already met my mom a bunch of times. Relax.”

She smiles at his words, trying to take them in but she fails miserably, her breath catching.

“I literally wasn’t there to support her son during the hardest time of his life.”

She watches as a hint of heartbreak settles in his gorgeous eyes and she mentally kicks herself for wording it that way. Blake handles it just fine though.

“And like I said, we both knew that you would’ve been there every step of the way if I’d asked you to.”

“What if she thinks I should’ve fought harder?”

Blake halts them on the way to his mom’s porch and tunes into her, holding her by the waist. “No one thinks that, Gwen.”

She looks away, unable to deal with the intense and genuine stare coming from him, but he demands her full attention. “Look at me.”

She looks up again, meeting his gaze as she feels her eyes water.

“No one fought for me harder than you, Gwen. We wouldn’t even be here in this position right now if you didn’t decide to fight for us once more.”

Her hand moves up to cup his cheek, smiling through her teary expression. “Why do you always know just what to say?”

He leans in for a quick kiss, before retreating but still holding her close.

“You trust me, right?”

 _“Yes_.” She whispers.

“Than trust me when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about.”

She nods, letting him lead her down the porch until his finger collides with the doorbell.

Blake turns out to be right. His mom welcomed her with open arms— literally— and wouldn’t stop telling her how happy she is to see her; not thinking she ever would. Dorothy hasn’t changed one bit from what she remembers; she’s still that open-minded and warm individual that made everyone feel at home. A sense of sadness washes over her at the thought of missing out on having that in her life for so long, but thankfully Blake tugs her out of that train of thought rather quickly.

“You still good?” He whispers in her ear after sneaking up behind her; she could’ve sworn he was in the kitchen only seconds ago, helping his mother clean the dishes.

“Yeah.” She whispers in response, turning around to face him. “Weren’t you supposed to help your mom out?”

Just as he’s about to answer, Dot walks out of the kitchen and approaches them with a wide smile. “Gwen, why don’t you come help me out for a little while. This one is too much of a handful.” She winks while motioning towards her son.

Gwen smiles, a brief feeling of nervousness engulfs her at Dot’s request, but Blake’s soft smile gives her the final piece of reassurance she needs.

“Sure.” Gwen smiles gently, stealing one last touch of Blake’s hand before disappearing into the next room with Dot.

“Dinner was amazing.” Gwen says sweetly, as she takes over the dishcloth and waits for Dot to hand her the next item. “Thank you for inviting me and having me over.”

“Oh, sweetheart…”

There must’ve been something in the way she said those words, because before she knows it, she’s caught in one of her infamous bear-hugs. “You’re still the sweetest thing.” Dot muses, oblivious to Gwen as she becomes a bit emotional. “Ofcourse I’m inviting you—I tell Blake all the time, you’re the best thing that has ever happened to him.”

Blake’s admission about his mom’s disapproval of cutting her out of his life suddenly takes over her mind as the woman so directly praises her.

She smiles softly as she pulls back, wiping at some of the tears sticking to her lashes. “I’m sorry, I’m just really glad to be here again.”

“Me too, Gwen. I mean it, I’m happy you found your way back to my boy.”

It feels nice to have that little moment out of the way, most of her nerves finally subsiding as Blake turned out to be right, _again._

She’s getting lost in the simple task of drying Dot’s kitchen tools, when the older woman suddenly speaks up with a hint of hesitation in her voice.

“Tell me if this is too straightforward Gwen, but I just _have_ to ask….” Dot’s voice trails off as she eyes Gwen carefully, that friendly smile still etched onto her face.

Gwen squints her eyes, before cracking a smile as well. “What could possibly be _that_ bad?”

“Do you and Blake ever think about having children?”

An uncomfortable weight settles on her chest and she coughs once to release the pressure, feeling suddenly incredibly vulnerable. Dot’s eyes widen as she realizes she overstepped and starts apologizing immediately.

“God Gwen, I’m so sorry. I don’t know when to shut up sometimes.”

“No...” Gwen starts softly, shaking her head to dismiss the apology altogether. “It’s okay, it’s just…. we’ve been…. talking about it a lot actually—it’s complicated.”

She can tell his mom wants to ask more about it, but she refrains herself, probably still feeling like she crossed a line when she shouldn’t have. Gwen decides to take some of the awkwardness away by opening up some more.

“I’ve always wanted kids.” Gwen states, finding it to be an appropriate opening to a conversation she doesn’t know how to guide. Dot’s eyes shine with recognition and Gwen realizes it’s a statement even his mom is aware of. “Turns out there are some irregularity issues with me, which means it might never happen for us.”

She decides to just drop the hammer immediately, fearing to see the disappointment pool in the older woman’s eyes, but all she’s met with is patience and understanding.

“I keep holding out hope….” Gwen trails off eventually. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid at all, sweetheart.” Dot assures her. “It’s human.”

“Well, it’s starting to feel stupid.” Gwen confesses, suddenly sharing way more than she intended to. “It feels like nothing I do will make any difference.”

Sensing the growing wetness in her eyes, Dot reaches out for her hand over the kitchen counter, nodding in quiet understanding.

“It will happen.” She promises. “You just have to believe.”

Gwen can’t help but to scoff quietly. “In what?”

The woman shrugs. “Fate. Miracles. Whatever works for you.”

As she lifts her chin to lock their gaze, she finds nothing but pure belief and determination in Dot’s eyes, shining with sincerity. “It’ll happen.” Dot repeats another time.

How someone can carry such a firm belief in something they have absolutely no control over, she doesn’t know, but she wishes she possessed even an ounce of her optimism.

“Thank you.” Gwen whispers; she’s not sure what she’s thanking her for—but the pressured feeling on her chest is subsiding while she holds onto the older woman’s hand.

As if Blake can sense the conversation came to a stop, he makes his presence known in the kitchen again, stepping to them carefully.

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” He asks softly, his words not matching his actions as he steps closer to Gwen and slides an arm around her lower back.

She knows why he’s here and she’s beyond grateful for his never-ending attentiveness. He probably still thinks she’s going out of her mind with nerves and he did promise to never leave her side—at least not for too long.

“No, you’re not sweetheart.” Dot chimes in, giving her son a soft smile. “Gwen and I were just finishing up here.”

Gwen smiles sweetly, sliding her hand down to his arm and squeezes. Turning her head to face Dot, she makes sure the woman knows she’s grateful and Blake simultaneously will figure out the conversation went well and she’s not that worried anymore.

“Thank you for that conversation just now, Dot. I needed to hear it.”

She catches Blake’s confused expression from the corner of her eye, and his mom places a kiss on his cheek in response.

“You do realize you won the jackpot with this one, don’t you?”

Blake chuckles at his mom’s question, looking back at Gwen with what can only be described as complete agreement.

“I’d have to be a damn fool not to.”

She tries not to swoon right then and there, wanting to maintain some composure as she takes in his words, leaning into him a little.

As nervous as she was before coming here, as comfortable as she feels when they get to leaving. It’s clear Blake got his charm and ability to make everyone feel good from his mother; the whole night going way smoother than Gwen ever thought possible. Sitting in his car, riding shotgun, gives her the opportunity to slouch back against the interior of the car seat, her eyes focused on Blake as she starts thinking.

“What’s got you so deep in thought?” Blake asks while briefly looking over at her, before turning his gaze back towards the road in front of him.

Being a bit caught off guard by him suddenly yanking her out of her head, she stumbles on her words a little.

“Uhm…. I just…. your mom and I, we had a pretty good conversation.”

“Yeah?” He muses, nodding his head in interest. “About what?”

She’s not sure how he’ll react to them talking about that particular subject, but she knows better than to lie to him about it. “About life together, maybe even _creating_ it.”

Blake’s smile suddenly fades a little bit, snapping his head to look at her. “She asked you about that?”

She shrugs. “I mean, well yeah—she’s your mother, Blake. She wants to know about that kind of stuff, I get that.”

“She just flat out asked you if you wanted kids with me?”

Blake ignores her previous speech in defence of his mom, his hands gripping onto the steering wheel tighter.

“ _Yeah._ ” She says slowly, eyeing him. “Baby, why are you working yourself up over this? I’m telling you; it’s fine.”

“I’m not getting worked up.” He breathes, silence settling in between them for a moment. “Did you tell her about the pills?”

The intensity in which he’d been looking at her before is now gone completely, his eyes plastered to the road again.

She sits back into her seat a bit more, biting her lip. “I didn’t tell her that part.” Gwen admits lowly. “But I told her it’s been a bit of a struggle.”

Blake says nothing, just nods. “What did she say?”

Gwen smiles as she remembers the conversation she had with Dot, a warmth spreading through her as she reminisces about the hopefulness in her eyes.

“That it was gonna happen for us. To not lose hope.”

That finally gets Blake to look at her again, that familiar softness lingering in his eyes. “She’s right about that.”

Gwen can do nothing but nod. The whole thing still feels like she’s reaching, but there has been made room for a bit more hope to nestle itself inside her heart; the hope of one day getting to carry his child, feeling a little less out of place.

“But she wasn’t right for bringing that up.” Blake continues suddenly, apparently still not happy with his mom’s prying. “It’s the first time since you’ve been around after everything happened and she picks that moment to bring up something like _that_?”

“I mean, it’s like you said—we’ve all known each other for so long, I think the initial awkwardness is long gone for the most part.”

She can tell by the tightness of his jaw that he’s still not all the way convinced, but something apparently tells him to let it go.

“If you’re not bothered by it, I’ll let it go. I just want you to be comfortable, baby.”

She suddenly remembers the fight they had a couple days ago, and it dawns on her that out of everything, he’s probably the most freaked out about his mom’s comments causing her to push him away again. The thought of Dot unintentionally saying something to send her off in a tailspin again, terrifying him.

Just as they approach a stop sign, her palm reaches up to caress the back of his hand as she intertwines their fingers on the steering wheel. She’s aware of the fact that her anxiety has been the root of problems before and even though he’s always been very good at handling them, this time it’s her turn to ease some of his raging nerves.

“Baby, can you look at me?”

The moment he does confirms her earlier suspicions and she squeezes his hand softly.

“I’m not going anywhere, okay?” She whispers sweetly. “I know I’ve freaked out on you before and it’s still hard for me to maybe have to accept that certain things just won’t work out for us, but no matter what happens, you’ve got me. Forever.”

She has to untangle her hand from his due to the car spurring into motion again, but he manages to whisper a “I’m not going anywhere either” before she’s completely retracted her hand. It’s a statement he didn’t have to verbalize for her to know it’s true; she can see it all in these sea blue eyes.


	25. Chapter 25

_The breath he sucks in when the car stops in front of the cemetery minutes later doesn't feel like it comes back out, but Gwen’s already exiting the vehicle without waiting for him. Either he comes with her or he doesn't, and while the latter option seems way more comfortable, he can’t let her pass these cemetery gates alone._

_He watches her sigh of relief when she hears the slam of a car door, the jog of footsteps approaching to catch up with her._

_"Gwen...I know where you’re going and you shouldn’t.” He adds in a murmur, his voice low, not wanting to disturb the dead. "Whatever you're trying to prove—"_

_"It's not about proving something, but you were wrong last night. You can't pick and choose the parts of your life I’m allowed to see. That’s not how this works, so why don’t you for once take me to the place you always run off to. Introduce me.”_

_"Gwen." He grits out, her words making him nauseous. He won’t be getting out of this one easily and it occurs to him that maybe he shouldn’t— despite feeling like she’s tearing open his chest and seeing everything he’s been so desperately trying to hide. “I don’t like sharing this part of me, Gwen. For good reason.”_

_“Tell me.” She urges._

_“After he died, it's like I built up this wall inside, so I'd never have to… hurt like that again.” He attempts to explain without looking at her, training his eyes on the colourful collages of flowers scattered throughout the cemetery. "I've been behind that wall for so long, it's become instinctive to keep anyone else from getting too close.”_

_Gwen releases a long breath through her nose, her lungs deflating in her chest._

_Standing in front of his brothers grave has his heart stuck in his throat, coming here alone all the time but never with Gwen. Never with anyone. The loud beating of his heart makes the task of breathing significantly more complicated. Suddenly Gwen is there, her chest grazing his broad back, letting him know without words that she’s only here to supply support._

_"It scares me to love someone as much as I love you.” He whispers, blinking away the threat of tears when the carved letters of his brother’s name begin to blur. "Everyone I love disappears."_

_One of her arm snakes around his waist, but he skilfully adjusts them so she’s standing with her back pressed against his chest, her eyes now on Richie’s grave too._

_"It scares me.” He repeats, breathing the words into her hair, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Sometimes I worry that I love you too much.”_

_"The way you love me - I was being a bitch last night when I said you didn't know what it was."_

_Blake cringes at the memory, her words had hurt him more than he’d let on, but he should’ve known she was well aware._

_"Baby, it’s—” He sputters, quick to brush over it, but she presses on, refutes his denial before it can leave his lips._

_"No one has ever loved me like you do.” She whispers. "So right and beautiful and I - I never want to lose that and I'm so sorry if I made you feel like it wasn't enough, because it is. It's everything to me."_

_Blake squeezes his arms around her tightly, but not tight enough. She leans back into him like she can’t get enough of their closeness. “I’m sorry for shutting you out last night, Gwen. For saying you were being needy when all you tried to do was help.”_

_Her ragged breathing suggests she’s either crying or close to it and he decides to keep going, keeping her from having to get words out. Words he has enough of._

_"I just can't risk you getting hurt.” He finishes, pressing in closer. “I can’t lose you.”_

_"You won't.” She promises, swears it like she believes speaking the words will make them true. "You won't.”_

_“He would’ve loved you.” Blake whispers suddenly, resting his cheek on her shoulder while eyeing the tombstone._

_He watches Gwen follow his gaze, her eyes settling on Richie’s name. She finally turns around so she can meet his eyes, pushing her chest up against his._

_"I love you.” She whispers, dusting her fingers along the plane of his cheek before cupping his face in her palm. "In every way there is to love a person."_

_"I know.” He murmurs, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles along her back. "I'm sorry about the fight. What I said, it wasn't right. Wasn't right for me to discredit you, keep throwing the past in your face. I just…. I got scared and overreacted— “_

_"It's okay.” She murmurs, because she knows he needs to hear it, needs to know it really is okay or he'll just keep beating himself up about it. She sweeps her thumb back and forth along his cheekbone. "Maybe it wasn’t fair, but maybe it was necessary. It opened a lot of wounds we've both been trying to ignore."_

_He concedes on a sigh, slides his palm up her spine to curve at her nape, submerging his fingers in her hair. "We both have lost people. We’ve both dealt with grief in one way or another. I had no right to— “_

_"Just don’t do it again; don’t push me away." She skims her thumb along his mouth to quiet him._

_After a few silent moments, he speaks again. “I think I might actually need you more than anything in this world, Gwen. As in forever.”_

_“You have me for that long." She swears, the promise coming out strong as it emerges from her mouth. "I promise, Blake." She draws his hand to her mouth, presses her lips to his knuckles._

*

 

“I wanna take you somewhere, baby.”

It’s all she’d said before she practically dragged him out of the house, towards her car. He has no idea where they’re going, but there’s something in her eyes he just can’t refuse. He can’t help getting a little restless though; he’s not one for surprises and the hint of mischief in her eyes tells him that she’s aware of his impatient state. He keeps looking at her for an explanation, while also trying to make out their destination by looking out of the window.

She denies him any explanation until the car comes to a full stop.

“Honey, where are we going?” He asks sheepishly, looking around the crowded Santa Monica streets.

She raises her eyebrows and gives him a small shrug as a tease, before grabbing his hand. Not only is he confused about their whereabouts—the shopping strip all too familiar to him but the reason as to why she’d drag him out _here_ out of all places isn’t. It had seemed like the idea hit her all the sudden, dropping dinner preparations to haul him out of their new place.

It’s a few more streets and then his eyes widen in sudden recognition. She’s standing so close to him he can smell her fruity perfume fly up his nostrils, their arms intertwined as she sways into his side with every step they take. He can feel her stare on the side of his face as she waits full of anticipation as he falls quiet.

He squeezes her arm as the low gravel of his voice hits her against her ear. “You remembered.”

She drags her eyes away from the petite store and turns to look up at him. In the glow of the streetlight she almost appears ethereal and it fits his mood, because everything feels like a dream nowadays.

“How could I forget?” She asks while biting her lip gently, driving him crazy. “We bought the cheapest, ugliest stuff here when we first moved in together. We were truly silly kids.”

His face lights up as she ushers them inside, the store having changed considerably from how he remembered it. The fact it’s even still here is mindblowing to him. The fact that he finds himself here again with the only woman he’s ever been here, just two decades later is enough to utter him completely speechless.

“They would hand out the most disgusting tea if you stayed long enough.” He whispers in her ear, enjoying the way her hand flies up to cover her mouth as she stifles her laugh.

“And only if you were set on buying something.”

“The green leather pillow.” They both say in unison. There’s a look of astonishment in her eyes, a mirror to the look he’s giving her.

“Wow.” She smiles, her happiness and gratitude pooling in the depths of her eyes. “It blows my mind how much stays with you throughout the years.”

He nods in understanding. “Just to play devil’s advocate; that thing was impossible to forget—truly the most hideous thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Her body shakes with laughter again, holding onto his arm tightly. “Were we drunk when we were persuaded to buy it that day?”

He chuckles. “I’m afraid not, darlin’.”

“Anyways.” She clears her throat, the emotion suddenly catching her by surprise. “I thought we should take another look around, since we just moved into our new place and I think it would be cute to have an item from here now too. What do you think?” There’s suddenly a hint of insecurity on her features. “Tell me if it’s too corny.”

He stares at her before placing a soft kiss on her lips, determined to get rid of the insecurity and nerves that are starting to settle within her.

“It sounds wonderful, baby. I think it’s an amazing idea.”

“You do?” She asks, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips and he didn’t know it was possible for him to love her even more in that moment.

He looks around the store before pointedly addressing her. “That part of the store is off limits though, I won’t be able to look at any of that without getting homicidal tendencies.”

She looks to the left where he’s pointing at and giggles behind her hand, shaking her head in disbelief. The part of the store where he’s referring to holds the kitschiest items he’s ever seen; from gold leather pillows to silver dogs and other farm animals.

“I’m really blown away by your faith in me.” She says mockingly before playfully swatting his upper arm.

He pretends to be seriously injured at her slap. “I hope you’re prepared to kiss me better when we get home.”

Her smile turns devious as she closes the distance between them, chuckling in his ear. “We still have to christen a bunch of places in the new house. Why don’t you think of a nice place to start?”

He grunts in his efforts not to drag her out of the store and back to the car and kisses the temple of her head, creating the least appealing mental images to keep himself from losing it right then and there.

“Be careful, woman.”

The smile that spreads across her face at the realization of how much she’s affecting him makes him chuckle again. Deciding to give him a fair chance, she takes some distance to look around, the smell and ambiance giving them both instant nostalgia.

“How about this?” Blake bumps into her shoulder gently, showing the small coffee table. She cocks her head to the side, studying the thing with way too much seriousness. He lets her though, knowing that these types of things are more important to her than they are to him. “Did it pass your test?” He asks after a few moments.

She smiles before placing a kiss on his lips. “It’s perfect.”

He’s not sure whether she’s talking about the item in his hands or them, but it doesn’t even matter. He swipes his card to pay for the wooden accessory and enjoys the way how she clings onto his arm once more as they make their way back to the car. He used to dream about walking down these streets with her again, never thinking it would become reality. He doesn’t break the moment of silence or does anything to change the simplicity of the moment, but his mind races with how much he feels for the woman holding onto his arm, swaying into the side of his body like she belongs there.

And she does.

*

He watches her knife start to cut into the full capsicum she's holding, the blade piercing through the bright green, her tongue pushing past her lips in utter concentration. He just looks at her, trying not to intervene as she makes cooking look like the most difficult task in the world.

"Blake, I can feel you staring.” She says quietly.

He knows it’s important for her to not mess this up, the first dinner they have in their new house after months and months of moving and decorating more important to her than he would’ve imagined, but he can’t help but chuckle at the cute image she makes for.

"Look, you’re so amazing at so many things…" He gives her a look of assurance, smiling brightly. "I just don’t think this will ever be your strong suit, baby.”

She stares at him before she drops the knife with a clank. "Maybe.” She mutters grasping a tin of tomato paste, seemingly done with the chopping for now. "That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna try."

He watches her struggle with the ring pull, her damp hands causing it to slip beneath her capture. He stands up, moving around the counter to help her.

"Let me-"

"Wait, just let me try one more time." She turns away from him but she must have pulled too violently because a whole gush of red liquid spills down the front of her black shirt. "Jesus." She lets out a high-pitched shriek suddenly, looking at him with wide eyes before they both burst out laughing. "See, _this_ is why I don't cook.”

He laughs inhibited then, wrapping his arms around her from behind and leaning his head down in the crook of her neck.

"Babe." He whispers. "How bout I take over?" He picks the can up off the counter gently. "You go change... shower if you like —I can finish up here."

He scratches his cheek, unable to help the smile tugging on his lips this time, the humour of the situation too much to conceal. He can also tell she's freaking herself out over the thought she might've ruined things and he can't talk that out of her head fast enough.

"Baby, trust me.” He says honestly. "I could just as easily have cereal tonight. I don't care."

She stares at him for a few beats before she cups his cheek. “Are you sure you don’t need any help here?” She asks before embarrassingly looking around the mess she made. “I can’t just leave you with all of this.”

“Yes you can.” He counters. “And you will. I got this, Gwen.”

She steps backwards suddenly, her hip bumping the counter before she corrects her stance.

"Okay I'm gonna shower then.” She says softly, leaving room for him to interject still.

He doesn’t take the bait though, just nods. “Take your time and when you come back, I’ll have this ready for us.” He says gently, before kissing her on the cheek as he watches her head for the bathroom.

He knows he only has a limited amount of time to set his plan in action, but his nerves and adrenaline helped speed the process up. Feelings of both nostalgia and regret wash over him, fear and excitement settle into his being and it’s like everything they went through together gets heightened in his mind. By pushing the unhelpful thoughts away to make room for the ones most likely to get him through this night, he’s able to decorate the living room with necessary accessories, while also keeping an eye on the food that’s brewing on the stove. He wonders if maybe they should’ve just gone out or ordered something, but this was important to Gwen to do it this way and he can’t lie, it makes his plan easier to execute.

He hears the shower turn off, the droplets of water no longer clattering against the bathroom tiles and he knows it won’t be long before she’ll be back in the living room. There’s no turning back now— he doesn’t want to, but the reality of the situation comes crashing down on him like the heaviest blanket: he’s always wanted her more than anything in this world, the thought of losing her once again is able to tear him to shreds from the inside out. He needs her forever and tonight will hopefully be the start of that.

He checks on their dinner before she joins him again, smiling at the scene he’d walked in on before; Gwen’s frustrated expression as she’d fought with the ingredients bringing a wide smile to his face. God, he loves her.

No matter how many times he’s seen her, something inside him still freezes whenever he’s met with her presence, like he can’t believe this gorgeous woman ever agreed to being with him in the first place. He hears her footsteps down the hall and smiles when she rounds the corner. Her hair is still a bit wet, falling smoothly over her shoulder and the sweatpants she’s wearing looks more like a legging, hugging her in all the right places. He basks in the smile she’s giving him before her attention shifts towards the living room. Her beautiful lips part on a gasp, her movements halting as she just takes in the sight in front of her.

He managed to get the place tidied up while she showered, got out a bunch of candles to accompany the dinner table and few more randomly placed around the living room. He put on the playlist she once made for him when they were younger— her taste in music yet another thing that made him fall in love with her as fast and hard as he did.

“Blake.... what— oh my god.”

He smiles at her inability to be articulate and walks over to where she’s frozen in place. When he’s close enough to reach for her, he’s able to see the tank top she’s wearing allows for quite a bit of side boob and he chuckles.

“I really did _all_ of this and it’s still me who has the best view.”

She rolls her eyes at his blatant flirting, disregarding the statement mostly as she brings it back to what he got done. “You were never gonna let me cook tonight, were you?”

He bites his lip softly and shakes his head, pulling her close.

“I was not.” He confirms with a smirk.

“Blake, this looks beautiful. I can’t believe you did all this.”

The way her voice gets ten times higher when she’s excited is yet another thing he’s missed after going without it for so many years. Right now, with her excited frame pressed against him, he finds the only comfort he’ll ever need in this world.

“You wanted this night to be special, so— “

“—It’s already special, Blake, are you kidding? We’re moved in to our own house together; I still kind of can’t believe this is real life right now.”

He smiles at her excitement, nodding in agreement. “It does feel a bit surreal, doesn’t it?”

“But it’s all I’ve ever wanted. My whole life has been such a crazy ride; I feel like every situation I’ve gone through led me to this moment and I suddenly realize why I had to go through all of it, you know?”

“I totally do know.” He hums, still holding on to her. “I wish it didn’t take us all these trials and errors to get here, but I would endure them all over again if it meant ending up here with you.”

In a life that brought him loss, sickness, heartbreak, love and numerous friendships, he’d take the good and the bad all over again as long as it ended with Gwen in his arms, looking at him the way she’s looking at him now.

“Are you trying to make me cry?” She whispers, smiling when he presses a kiss on her forehead. She suddenly pulls back and looks at him nervously. “Did you turn off the stove cause it’s for sure going to burn.”

He laughs at her sudden change of subject. “Don’t worry, baby, I turned it off. You do realize it’s me you’re talking to, right? Not yourself…”

“ _Oh shut up_.” She says in mock offense, rolling her eyes.

Most of the times he only struggles with words when he doesn’t know what to say, but in this very moment it’s the complete opposite; he has so much he wants to say, but doesn’t know where to begin. There’s a long drawn out silence before he says anything at all.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting to do this ever since I first laid eyes on you.” He blurts our suddenly, Gwen growing noticeably confused.

“Do what?”

He shushes her with a gentle smile, knowing that if he doesn’t shut her up somehow, he’ll never get any words out.

“I thought about taking you out somewhere with a pretty view, this grand gesture to swoop you off your feet...” He starts, chucking at his own nerves.

“Blake...”

“Shhhh.” He shushes her once again, a finger falling over her lips this time. “Let me finish— I promise it’s going somewhere.”

There’s a sparkle in her eyes that indicates she’s both nervous and curious and he almost feels bad for dragging this out, but he needs to get it all off his chest. He wants zero regrets about this moment.

“I wanted to do all that...” He continues, referring to his earlier words. “But this thing we have, Gwen— its always been the most natural thing to me. Despite nothing ever coming easy to us, loving you has been exactly that.”

He watches the tears spring into her eyes and his hand softly smooths over the skin on her wrist. “So I didn’t want a bunch of distractions to overshadow this moment. I much rather do this right here, in our new house, with your favorite music playing.”

“Blake, what are you— “

“— I love you; wholeheartedly and unconditionally and it’s been that way from the start. I’m sorry I haven’t always been capable of showing you that, but I promise to make it up to you every single day. We’ve been through so much together and somehow we found our way back to each other and let me tell you, standing in front of you right now feels like my biggest accomplishment to date. I want this forever, Gwen— I want  _you_ forever.”

Stepping away from her to reach into the pocket of his jeans, he holds her gaze while lowering onto one knee, seeing the gasp escape her mouth before it becomes audible.

“ _Oh my god._ ” She whispers.

He smiles, his nerves getting a little less as he watches her reaction.

“I want to wake up with you for the rest of my life and I want to be able to call you my wife, Gwen. I want to do what I should’ve done twenty years ago.”

She’s full on crying now, the hand in front of her mouth doing nothing to stop these breathy sobs from escaping her.

“Marry me, Gwen. Make me the luckiest guy on the planet and let me make you the happiest wife.”

As shaky as he felt before, as steady his fingers hold the tiny velvet box between them. He watches as her face goes from pure shock to an overwhelming happiness, her smile forming through her tears.

“Oh my god Blake, yes. Ofcourse I’ll marry you.”

He’s up off his knees and the moment he finds stable footing again, Gwen comes crashing into him, sniffling in the crook of his neck. He cradles her there, the overwhelming sense of relief and peace coursing through him enough to get addicted to—it doesn’t feel real.

But it is. Gwen said yes to being his wife. They’re getting married.

“I love you so much.” She whispers, pulling away so she can kiss him deeply, the salt of her tears staining his own lips.

He only breaks the kiss to pull her hand up, sliding the ring smoothly down her finger before she’s back in his arms, clinging to him for dear life. It’s a moment that feels two decades overdue, but there’s nothing that can beat the sense of security that comes with doing this now; they’re both ready and he hasn’t felt this confident about anything in his life.

*

 

Blake’s laying outstretched on the bed, his feet dangling off the edge as he tries to catch his breath for a moment. It’s been one hell of a day and he’s almost one hundredth percent sure once Gwen crawls in bed with him, he’s out like a light. The bedroom door gets pushed open and his wife’s frame appears into the doorway, holding the barely three-year-old.

“Someone wouldn’t go to sleep without some cuddles from daddy.” Gwen mentions softly, as Blake props up on both elbows to face them. “What do you think? Should we give her what she wants?”

Willow giggles on Gwen’s shoulder, pressing her face in the crook of her neck and Blake can’t do anything but smile. He knows he can’t deny her anything, he can’t really deny either one of them much of anything, so he waits for the inevitable moment Gwen drops their daughter on their bed.

“I think a few cuddles can be arranged, but only if her mother is part of the deal too.”

The smile Gwen gives him is worth more than a thousand sunsets and there’s a part of his soul that’s only now been set free. Apparently, his suggestion to have Gwen stay with them has already been an established fact to the little girl, as her hands won’t let go of his wife’s nightgown. He knows they’ve both been busy, and sometimes when one of them is home a little less, Willow grows extra clingy.

“Come here, princess.” Blake opens his arms as Gwen lowers Willow down, smiling when she finally let’s go and snuggles into Blake’s chest.

Gwen pulls the cover back enough to get situated on the other side of Blake, his arm effortlessly pulling her closer into his side.

“God I missed this.” She whispers, her own hand resting on his t-shirt covered chest. “I think I’m gonna work from home for a few days.”

Blake looks at her, wincing a little as Willow shifts and kicks her little feet right below his ribcage.

Gwen notices immediately. “Willow-love, be careful with Blakey.”

“Mommy staying home?”

Blake can feel the little puff of air hit his chest as she chuckles, nodding fiercely. She reaches over his body to touch Willow’s cheek as she smiles.

“Yeah, baby. I’m staying home with you for a few days.”

“More cuddles.” The toddler claps excitedly, causing both parents to laugh.

“Do these extra cuddles extend to me too?” Blake asks lowly, his arm pulling her even closer.

Her answer comes in the form of a kiss on his cheek and a gentle nod. He watches her eyes close while her blonde locks flow freely across her face and a slight smile curved onto her lips; she looks as peaceful as he feels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW, thank you guys for sticking with this story for as long as you have. I'm a little sad it's over, but I have so much more coming. I know this story was a rollercoaster at times, but I hope this ending made up for it. Like I said before, this story was about to very damaged people finding their way back to each other, to a healthier love. It seems to me like they managed just that ~


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